Richonne Fairy Tales
by We'reTheOnesWhoWrite
Summary: The story of Rick and Michonne is one of love and adventure - with a dash of magic. This is a collection of Richonne love stories inspired by some of our favorite fairy tales, from Little Red Riding Hood to Cinderella, with each story written by a different author. Rated M for mature to explicit content.
1. Chapter 1

Starting us off down Fairy Tale lane is **Afilmmefatale**. Please enjoy her remix of Sleeping Beauty with our favorite couple.

If you have not already done so, please check out other work on her FF page.

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

**_Sleeping Beauty_: _Rick knows just the right moves to return Michonne to the land of the living._**

"And they lived happily ever after." Rick knew most of the fairy tales by heart, but still enjoyed the routine of flipping through the glossy, colorful pages of the children's book.

He rose from his seat, stretching his arms and rubbing his sore neck. He'd been there a good four hours, well over his allotted shift. The nights Carl was with his mother, Rick spent with Michonne and Judith. He found more pleasure reading to them than sitting in front of the TV in an empty apartment. If he could spend every night of the week with the two of them, he would.

Although the hospital had a strict policy limiting volunteer shifts to one day a week, he'd used his Southern charm - and dozens of donuts - to convince the nurses to let him extend his time in the coma ward, first to three days a week, and eventually to five. He looked forward to his nights with this woman he had yet to have a conversation with.

"Until next week," he said into the mic. It was his only means of communicating through the thick pane of glass. He paused as though he expected a response. Michonne and Judith both lay motionless, the regular rise and fall of their chests the only movement in their bodies.

Michonne remained as still as she had for the past forty-three years; her expression blank, giving little indication of what she might be feeling. He often wondered what her dreams were like. Were they full of cotton candy buffets? Fire-breathing dragons? Maybe a mix of both.

Rick had been a volunteer at the Atlanta County Hospital for almost three years. He first encountered Michonne while completing a community service project with his co-workers. They were on a tour of the hospital when they stopped in the coma ward, affording Rick his first glance of Michonne in the flesh.

Given she was somewhat of a celebrity, he recognized her before spotting the name on her chart: Michonne Copeland. Their tour guide went on to tell them the story they'd all likely heard already, with all the news stories and documentaries that had been done on the attack. Michonne, and a ten-year-old girl named Judith, were the longest living survivors of the Fairy Dust attack, which had claimed the lives of more than three hundred people and put twenty others into comas. A mysterious silver dust had been pumped into the ventilation system of an apartment complex in Downtown Atlanta, during a record hot summer day. Most residents died instantaneously, while others expired on the way to the hospital. Twenty ended up in comas.

Over the years, the comatose survivors perished one by one, all due to heart failure from unknown circumstances. The only two remaining were Judith and Michonne, both quarantined at the hospital. When Rick had first seen them, they lay side-by-side, hooked up to feeding tubes. He'd been prepared for fragility, skeletal forms barely holding onto life. Instead, the young girl's brunette hair shone like polished wood, her rosy cheeks full of life.

And then there was Michonne.

Even in the throes of a ceaseless slumber, Rick thought Michonne was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes upon. Delicately plump lips set in a round face, long lashes, flawless skin - she'd been asleep for nearly half a century and hadn't aged a single day. That had been the hardest thing for Rick to wrap his mind around. He'd been a toddler when the attack had happened and yet she looked years younger than him. In that first encounter, his feelings morphed from admiration to infatuation to something near love, almost instantaneously.

In the blink of an eye, she had pulled him in, tugging at some invisible string tied to his cynical heart. Sleeping Beauty, he'd nicknamed her. He signed up that very day to become a permanent volunteer with the hospital, determined to spend as much time with Michonne as possible. And he'd been by her side ever since.

Rick was in the process of gathering his things when Judith suddenly shot up into a sitting position. His brain took a few seconds to catch up to what he was seeing. Judith was awake.

"Michonne," she croaked, her tiny voice not used to the effort of speech. "Michonne." This time it was more of a groan.

Rick spoke into the mic, trying to keep his voice calm. "You're okay, Judith. You're not alone."

She searched the room for the source of the voice and spotted Michonne beside her. She threw off her covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Stay where you are. Let me get a nurse," Rick said, afraid she might injure herself. It'd been nearly fifty years since she'd used her ten-year-old legs. She ignored him, sliding off the bed and colliding with the hard floor.

Rick pressed the call button, hoping a nurse would arrive soon. They were in a secluded part of the hospital, so it might take a few minutes at the least. "Judith, listen to me. You're in no condition to be out of bed."

She finally spotted him on the other side of the glass, her eyes pleading. "You have to help her."

Rick watched, helpless, as her small body collapsed to the floor. "Judith!" he yelled into the mic. She didn't stir.

He tapped the call button in quick succession. Besides the fact that their small room was locked and he didn't have the key, going in there without a protective suit would likely be the death of him. Michonne and Judith were separated from the general population of the hospital for good reason - all that had shared the same air with them, had fallen into comas themselves, before passing away of heart failure like the others. Unfortunately, that had been the fate of Judith's mother and father.

He grabbed the metal chair he'd been sitting on and slammed it against the glass. A small crack appeared where the leg of the chair connected with the hard surface. He repeated the move, the cracks spreading in the pattern of a web, radiating from the weakened center. Rick poured the last of his strength into a solid blow and the glass shattered, littering the ceramic tiles.

Rick ripped open a deep gash on his right hand scrambling through the window. He reached Judith, taking her into his arms. He shook her gently, calling her name. No response. He checked her pulse. It was weak, but it was there. He exhaled, though he knew she still wasn't in the clear.

Rick rose from the floor, holding on tight to Judith. He placed her back in the hospital bed. Looking around the room, he spotted a mask hooked up to an oxygen tank. Acting quickly, he placed the mask over Judith's nose and mouth and turned the valve. He held her little hand, hoping the oxygen would keep her alive long enough for the nurses to arrive.

He turned to Michonne. This was the closest he'd been to her. She was even more stunning up close. He reached out and caressed her cheek. It was as smooth as it looked. His hand drifted to the top of her head and he touched her hair gently, loving the soft texture. It was so different from his own loose curls. Her shoulder-length locs hadn't grown even a centimeter in almost fifty years, from what he'd been told.

He grabbed Michonne's warm hand, oddly warmer than his own, and intertwined their fingers. In less than a year he'd grown to love this woman who had no idea he existed. He wanted nothing more than to revel in the sound of his name on her lips; maybe even have the chance to kiss those lips.

Gradually, he began to feel lightheaded, swaying slightly. His arms felt like lead and his throat was closing in on itself. It became harder and harder to breathe. Just as his vision began to blur, he heard rustling. Through the haze of the blurriness, he could only tell that Judith's eyes were open and pointed in his general vicinity. The intensity of her gaze was more that of an adult than a child.

"Love," she whispered.

Rick's eyelids drooped and he had an overwhelming urge to sleep, sinking deep into a pitch black abyss.

xxxxxxxxxx

Less than a day since Judith had gone and Michonne's existence was already unbearable. The girl who she'd grown to love as her own daughter - whom she cared for and protected since this nightmare began - was lost to her forever.

Michonne was the last survivor on the island, with no means of returning home. She would die alone. Knowing Judith was alive, back at home where her family was waiting for her, was her only source of solace.

Michonne cracked open a crab leg, sucking out the meat as she watched the sun descend into the sea. The mix of blue, orange and purple was the same every time. The same sunset at dusk, at the same time, for almost a year. She sat in this same spot on the beach every night, looking for even the smallest of differences. And it was always the same.

Alone with her thoughts, she felt like the world was closing in on her. Everything she'd done to protect Judith, to keep the both of them alive, came rushing back. She had no regrets, but she also had no escape from the pain latched onto the memories.

As the last of the sun disappeared below the horizon, Michonne squinted at a dark figure emerging from the sea. What she assumed was a trick of light, looked to be an actual person. She stood to get a better view, making her way toward the water.

From this distance, the shadow appeared to be a man, guessing from the straight lines of his body and muscular thighs. Water splashed around her legs as she left the safety of the beach. She slipped the makeshift knife from the holster at her side - a sharpened shard of coconut shell - ready to dispose of this man if necessary.

He stopped, only a few feet away. The waves licked at his lean hips. He was naked, like they all had been when they first appeared on the island, though the water hid everything below the V in his waistline.

In the waning light, she could barely make out the confused expression in his eyes. Maybe confused wasn't the right word. It was more like he'd just seen a ghost. Water dripped from his short curls onto his shoulders and down his muscled chest. He was lean but fit and couldn't be more than a few inches taller than her.

"Michonne," he said with wonder.

He closed the distance between them with impressive speed, catching her off guard and suddenly sweeping her up in his arms. In just a bikini, Michonne could feel every inch of his hard, wet body pressed against hers. She grabbed his shoulders to hold herself steady.

He pressed his lips into the crook of her neck. "I thought I'd never see you again."

The only thing stopping her from plunging her knife into his neck was the sound of his voice. This stranger who felt he had the right to touch her, had a face that was completely unknown to her but a voice that gave her comfort. Something in his tone gave her pause before reacting.

Michonne pressed against his chest and he released her, only to swiftly cradle her face and press his lips to hers. The kiss was so hot that she was sure steam was hissing from her pores.

Even more phenomenal than the kiss, however, was her reaction. She melded against his body, their tongues in a sensual tango. His full lips enraptured her own, sucking on her bottom lip with ferocity. The sensation of something hard poking into her belly made her realize she was making out with a naked man. She pushed him away.

Michonne took several steps back, panting from the shock of it all. She pointed her makeshift weapon at him, struggling to keep her eyes from dipping below his waist. "Who are you?" she asked, her words laced with menace.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Rick."

She squinted at him. Even his name was familiar. Keeping her weapon pointed in his direction, she asked, "How did you get here?"

"Judith."

Her heart stopped. She was definitely going to have to kill him. "What do you know about Judith?"

"She's alive. She woke up." He took a step forward.

Michonne ignored the "Kill! Kill! Kill!" alarm going off in her head. "Don't come any closer." Against her will, she noticed the trail of hair leading down between his defined abs and to… She looked anywhere but at him, doing the best to ignore the desire welling up inside of her. Her mind clear, she finally processed what he'd said. "What do you mean Judith woke up?"

His glance was concerned, but lacked pity. "Where I'm from, you and Judith are in comas. She woke up right before I arrived here." He looked around, at the ocean surrounding them and the island in front of them. "Which is where exactly?"

She silently exhaled at discovering that Judith was alive. Something in her gut made her believe him. "You're nowhere," she said in response to his question. It was the best she'd been able to come up with these past ten or so months. There was only the island and the ocean. More than a handful of them had died in the pursuit of more. Others had been driven mad when they'd come to terms with the dire reality of their situation.

She felt the first drop of rain, before the downpour started. If he remained in the cold rain without a stitch of clothing, he'd be in bad shape in the morning.

Michonne lowered her weapon and turned her back on him. "You can't stay out here." She moved back up the beach, looking over her shoulder to see that he followed, getting an eyeful of his hard, dripping wet body sprinkled with hair. She whipped her head forward. Her cheeks blazed with heat and something stirred within her that had long been dormant.

"Thank you," he said from behind her. He was a lot closer than she'd realized. She could sense his heat. His accent reminded her of the kind people she'd met in the small towns of Georgia while earning her art degree.

They made it to her spot on the beach. She grabbed her beach towel and tossed it his way.

He came to stand beside her, the towel wrapped low on his hips, his eyes on her.

"What?" she said a bit forcefully, annoyed by how his closeness both unsettled and excited her. She became aware of the yellow bikini she was wearing, which she hadn't given a second thought until his sudden arrival. She almost moved to shield herself from his eyes, but didn't want to let on how he affected her.

"Nothing," he said, averting his eyes and looking around. He nodded in the direction of the beach house a few yards from them. "Is that where you live?"

She only nodded, heading in that direction.

"It's nice."

"It's home."

She'd fought hard to take possession of the place she and Judith had called home. It had been one of the few places on the island with both running water and electricity. And it was the only place with locks on the door, which had saved their lives more than once. And now she was allowing a complete stranger into the safety of her abode without a second thought. Loneliness must be clouding her judgment.

Michonne brushed the sand from her bare feet before stepping inside. It was a modest studio, with a small kitchen, two full-size beds and a bathroom. Besides the beds and a small dining table with chairs, it was pretty sparse. Her eyes drifted to the incomplete shell necklace Judith had been making. She had disappeared before she could finish it.

"I still don't understand where we are," Rick said. "What is this place?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Michonne grabbed a t-shirt from the back of the chair and a pair of swimming trunks she thought would fit him. She handed him the clothes. "Unless you want to wear a bikini, these will have to do."

"Thank you, Michonne." He accepted the clothes, his fingers lightly brushing hers. His touch reminded her that they were the only two people on this island.

"How do you know my name?"

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was with you back in the…real world. I volunteer at the hospital where you and Judith are patients."

Michonne grabbed his forearm. "You said she woke up. But is she safe?"

Rick put his hand over hers. "Yes, she's fine, I'm sure of it. By this time, the nurses should be tending to her. And me, now that I think about it."

Things were finally making sense. The last memory she had was of being in her apartment, on the phone with her mother, when a silver dust spewed out of the ventilation system. She lost consciousness minutes later. The next thing she knew, she was on a desert island with nineteen other people, one of them the ten-year-old girl who lived a few doors down from her.

"And you're a volunteer, not a nurse?"

He coughed out a laugh. "No."

Michonne squinted her eyes at him. "My dad was a nurse. And he was one of the best people I know."

He caught himself. "Not that there's anything wrong with male nurses. I'm just not one of them. Mostly, I read to you and Judith."

That might explain why she recognized his voice. Even she couldn't deny that the thought of him sitting there, reading to her and Judith, endeared her to him. Just a bit. "So, Judith woke up from her coma?" She was repeating the same question, but she had to be certain.

"Yes, Michonne." He was even more handsome when he smiled, the crow's feet in the corners of his eyes softening his face.

All that mattered was that Judith was alive. Michonne needed some time to process all this. She had resigned herself to being alone and now this mystery man had strolled onto shore, with his chiseled body and sexy Southern accent, claiming to have helped the only person she still cared about in this dog-eat-dog world.

And she had absolutely no clue what to do with him.

"There's a shower in the bathroom. Don't use up all the hot water," she said, not daring to look him in those baby blue eyes.

Before he could respond she was shutting the patio door behind her. She leaned her back against the door and exhaled. The last thing she heard was him starting the shower as she headed for the beach, her body tingling with some new emotion.

xxxxxxxxxx

"You found yourself in the middle of nowhere?" Rick licked the crab juice from each of his fingers. He noticed Michonne's gaze focused on his lips before she looked him in the eyes. He smiled to himself. Maybe there was more hope for him than he'd initially thought.

"There were twenty of us on an island and no one had any idea of how we got there." She bit into a mango, the juice clinging to those lips he'd only admired from afar. He resisted the urge to lean forward and take a lick. "I recognized Judith and a few others from my apartment complex. So we figured that had to be the connection."

Rick nodded. "The complex where you lived was the site of some kind of attack. The dust you were exposed to killed almost everyone that came in contact with it, except for twenty of you who went into comas. That was forty-three years ago."

"Forty-three years…" That part seemed to be hitting her especially hard. "That means a week here is roughly a year in your time."

"It seems that way. Maybe that's why you haven't aged. Your mind and body are somehow tied to this place."

Michonne's concern was understandably elsewhere. "That means my mom…"

Rick spoke with care. "She lived well into old age,, but passed away almost twenty years ago."

He'd met Michonne's younger sister on several occasions. She came by whenever she could find the time, which was usually once a month. He'd been told by the nurses that she kept the same schedule for the entire time Michonne was in the hospital. She herself was in her seventies now, but she talked about Michonne as though she were still the older sister. Rick had taken the opportunity to learn as much as possible about Michonne, to fill those gaps in his imagination. Where did she go to college? Spelman. What was her favorite food? Hot dogs. Was she seeing anyone before the attack? No.

"Your sister comes to visit you on a regular basis. Along with her oldest son, Andre, and her grandchild."

Michonne chuckled. "Cherry is a mom? A grandmother, even. She swore she would never have kids and then steals the name I planned to give my firstborn son."

"She's how I learned about your mom. And a few other little things."

She raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

He laughed. "Nothing really. Just how you graduated law school at the top of your class and beat up your sister's seventh grade bully."

"That little princess had it coming." Michonne cracked a smile for the first time since they'd encountered each other on the beach.

Rick couldn't help but smile in return, struck by how the gesture lit up her entire face. The suspicion and caution she exuded melted away with that smile. Meeting the real Michonne and learning all the nuances in her mannerisms - like how she tilted her head when she was listening - had only increased his feelings for her. He knew he was in love with her, without a doubt. The fact that she thought of him as a stranger was an obstacle he was more than willing to work around. On the beach, she'd kissed him back, which had to mean something. Not knowing how much time they might have together, he was more determined than ever to win her over.

Michonne broke into his thoughts. "And they still don't know the source of the attack?"

"Nope. A few groups tried to take credit, but were ruled out early on. They have yet to even identify the dust." Rick cut another slice of mango and handed Michonne the wedge. She accepted the fruit without hesitation. He continued, "Weirder than that, though, is the comatose people who started dying off, all from heart failure. You and Judith were the only ones unaffected."

Something like guilt cascaded across her elegant features. He let the silence linger between them, not wanting to press her. After a few minutes more of silence, she finally spoke.

"When we first arrived, it took us days to even realize we all lived in the same apartment building. And then someone suggested we'd all died in a fire and that this was the afterlife. Most accepted that line of reasoning, since we had everything we needed on the island to meet our basic needs - homes for shelter, a self-replenishing stock of food and water, even clothes. I never quite believed it, as most people's last memories were of feeling the urge to sleep and losing consciousness, not of some fire."

Rick handed her another slice of mango, but she declined. "It only took a month for the real danger to appear. A man named Phillip, who lived two floors below me, convinced a few of the other men that their only chance of getting off the island was to be the last man standing. They attacked in the middle of the night, while we were sleeping. They massacred half of our group in less than an hour. Luckily, I was able to grab Judith and flee into the jungle area of the island. There was no way I was letting any of those men anywhere near Judith."

Rick wanted to hold her, to take away the pain that stretched her thin. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Michonne just shrugged in return, looking away from him. "It was probably the cause of the heart failure, dying here means you die in real life."

"That sounds right. I think the first deaths occurred around four years after the attack, all in quick succession."

Michonne shook her head. "I wish I could have saved more of them, but Phillip and his men had made weapons in secret. We were no match for them. They claimed the beach for themselves. Judith and I hid out, but I knew our safety would be short-lived if I didn't take Phillip out before he got to us."

"And so you fought." He became more impressed - and infatuated - with her by the minute.

Michonne nodded curtly. "I knew the jungle better than they did and used it to my advantage. It took a few months, but I took out every last one of them, including Phillip."

"I'm sorry, Michonne." He hated to imagine her facing off with armed cowards.

"I did what I had to do to keep the both of us alive. I don't regret any of it."

Rick noticed a tear pooling at the corner of her eye. "You chose life over death. No one can ever fault you for that." Though the existence of this world had been hard to wrap his mind around, he'd come to accept it. There was one question, however, that he couldn't answer on his own. "So how was Judith able to return to the real world alive?"

"Even I can't answer that." She swiped at a stray tear. "After all was said and done, we were the last ones left alive on the island. We managed to make a comfortable home and keep ourselves occupied, but I could tell she missed her family. I loved Judith like she was my own daughter, but I couldn't stand to see her hide her depression behind fake smiles. I vowed to do all I could to return her home - even if it meant giving my own life. And the next morning I woke up to find she'd disappeared without a trace. I could only hope that meant she'd made it back."

"It sounds like you may have been more involved than you think." He thought back to Judith's last word to him. Love.

"Either way, if you hadn't shown up, I still wouldn't know what had become of her. Thank you."

"I'd do anything for you, Michonne. You don't have to thank me."

Rick held her gaze, neither of them looking away. He'd come all this way, he might as well take a chance. He leaned forward, hoping she would mirror his movements. Instead of meeting him halfway, however, she remained still, leaning back at the last moment.

Michonne moved clear across the room, soaking a mile a minute. "We should get some sleep. I'll take Judith's bed."

And with those words, she pulled a curtain that divided the room into two, separating him from the object of his affection. He inwardly kicked himself for moving too fast. He'd been in love with the fantasy of her for so long, that the flesh and blood person in front of him made him want to charge forward without thinking twice.

As far as he knew, they could have mere hours or an eternity together. He either had all the time in the world to convince her or almost none at all.

xxxxxxxxxx

Michonne almost felt bad shaking a snoring Rick awake.

"Mmm," he moaned. In the light of the moon, she could tell his eyes remained closed.

"I can't sleep," Michonne whispered, slipping into bed beside him. That got his attention. His eyes flipped open. "Tell me a story. Like you used to."

Lying in Judith's bed, the quiet had gotten to her. She realized it was her first night without the chatty girl around. She had been her rock for so long, the one thing in her life that kept her grounded and focused on what was right in front of her. Now she had nothing to care for and no reason to exist really. The only thing that brought her comfort and some sense of calm were the dreamlike memories of Rick's voice, soothing and kind.

Now, she was in search of a different kind of comfort.

"If you don't mind a fairytale, I know all of them by heart." He stifled a yawn.

"Sleeping Beauty." She always imagined the man behind the voice as a prince whose kiss could wake her from this nightmare of an existence. And now maybe he was here, lying beside her. Rick chuckled to himself.

"What?" she asked, not thinking there was anything particularly silly about that choice.

"That was my nickname for you. Sleeping Beauty. But now that you're awake…"

"Just tell me the story already." Michonne smiled to herself. He'd thought she was beautiful while in a coma? She could just imagine how plain and unappealing her real body must look. And yet this man thought she was beautiful just as she was.

Rick began to recite the story, giving her a strong sense of déjà vu. The resonant timber of his voice, the words he emphasized, the slight change in his cadence when he switched characters - it was all as she remembered. She nudged closer to him, throwing her arm across his bare chest. The vibrations as he spoke reverberated in her own body.

Although this was their first time meeting, she knew this man more intimately than some of her own family members. She recalled stories he would tell her about his own life, about the challenges with his ex-wife and teenage son, how he felt he'd failed as a husband and father. She even remembered a sappy love poem he'd written and recited for her.

"And they lived happily ever after," Rick said in conclusion. He turned his head to look her in the eyes. "Were you even listening?"

"The rose is red, the violet's blue. As beauty sleeps, I long for you." Michonne repeated the words she'd heard more than once.

Rick's face turned scarlet red. "You could hear me?"

Michonne nodded. "I didn't remember until now."

Rick looked up at the ceiling, running his fingers through his curls. "Ok…uhm…so while Judith was away, I may have said something about wanting to-"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Yep, I heard every last word."

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "Look, Michonne. I don't want you to think I don't respect you. I was just trying something I thought might grab your attention enough to wake you up. I'm really not a dirty old man."

"From what you've told me, I'm way older than you." She threw her thigh over his, heat building in her core. "Is the offer still open?"

His body tensed. He looked her way again, his clear blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Are you serious?"

"You're not going to make a girl ask twice, are-"

His mouth devoured her words. The passion behind his kiss filled her body with a new energy; chasing away the death that had settled deep into her bones and replacing it with the warmth of life. He rolled on top of her, settling between her thighs.

"Michonne," he moaned into her mouth. He propelled his hips forward, his hardness pressing against her bare pussy. She wore no underwear beneath her thin nightgown. "I can't believe this is happening."

She entangled her tongue with his, wanting to silence him more than anything. He'd done enough talking.

Rick pulled down the strap of her nightgown, exposing her chest. He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her straining nipple. His tongue replaced his thumb, moistening the sensitive pebble.

Michonne arched her back and he responded by engulfing her breast with his mouth, his tongue twirling around her nipple. She rocked her hips, her clit making contact with his hard shaft still trapped behind his boxer briefs. He switched sides, sucking and lapping at her other breast like it was a melting ice cream cone.

She wanted to feel him. Her hand followed the trail of hair between his abs, slipping past the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. He released her breast, grunting when she wrapped her hand around his hard cock. She slid her hand up and down his hot shaft.

"That feels good," he breathed, timing the pumping of his hips with the movement of her hand.

He kissed her deeply, fondling her breasts while she continued with the long, slow strokes. The weight of his body atop hers made her feel like she was tucked away in a steamy cocoon of pleasure.

His fingers found her pussy, gliding between her folds to uncover the tiny yet sensational bud that threatened to torment her if she didn't get release soon.

"Damn. I make you this wet?" He slipped a finger into her channel and she submitted to his touch.

"Rick!" she cried out.

"That's right, Michonne. Say my name."

"Rick," she whimpered as he added another finger.

He angled his fingers as he pumped in and out of her slick pussy. "Don't hold back."

She groaned, wanting to come more than anything, but afraid of how she might feel if she did.

Rick moved quickly, slipping down between her thighs, lifting her knees and spreading her legs apart. His tongue massaged her clit with precision. Michonne placed her hands on the sides of his head, holding him in place while she rubbed against his stiff tongue. He trapped her clit with his lips, sucking and slurping with abandon.

Michonne finally surrendered to him, her orgasm almost knocking the wind out of her. She couldn't remember ever coming this hard. He slipped two fingers back into her channel, making her come a second time, spots dancing across her vision.

"Shit, shit, shit," was all she could manage as her hips jerked involuntarily.

Rick moved back up her body. "Do you know how hard it was for me to not come just now?"

Michonne kissed him, exhausted but thoroughly satiated. "How hard?"

"Let me show you." The tip of his rock hard cock pressed against her opening.

"Fuck me, Rick."

Her words were all the encouragement he needed. Rick slipped in, his dick stretching her tight snatch.

"Shit," he breathed as he bottomed out. He paused for only a second before spreading her legs wider and thrusting into her.

Michonne held onto his shoulders as he pumped in and out of her, fucking her hard and fast. There was nothing gentle about it and he was driving her mad. The headboard slammed against the wall with each of his thrusts. He bent down, capturing one of her nipples between his lips.

"Oh no you don't," Michonne countered, knowing she would come again if he continued. She rolled him onto his back, grinding her pussy back and forth on his dick.

"You're so beautiful." He looked up at her with so much love she couldn't look away. He reached up, taking a breast in each hand, and giving each a squeeze for good measure.

She slammed down on his dick, almost wanting to punish him for making her feel a confusing swirl of emotions.

"I'm gonna come," he panted, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. She rode him harder and faster, her own climax just on the precipice.

"I love you," he shouted as his hot cum spurted into her.

Michonne clamped down on his dick, this last time even more intense than the first two. She collapsed onto him. "Me too," she whispered, the words escaping her lips of their own accord.

Rick wrapped his arms around her, covering the both of them with the light comforter. He rubbed her back. "Sleep well, my beauty."

Michonne sighed as she let sleep take her.

xxxxxxxxx

Rick wrinkled his nose at a sudden itching sensation. And then he sneezed, waking him up for good.

The tinkle of Michonne's laughter filled his ears. "It's about time, Sleepyhead. It's nearly dusk."

He felt a soft hand caress his cheek and knew it was Michonne. He slowly opened his eyes, the overhead fluorescent lights temporarily blinding him.

"Is he awake?" a girl's voice asked.

Rick looked over to find Michonne and Judith sitting on the side of his hospital bed. But they weren't in the quarantined room. They were in a private hospital room.

"Where are we?" Rick asked, sitting up in bed and examining his surroundings. There were two hospital beds and a small cot set up in the room. Along with plenty of flowers and balloons on nearly every available surface.

"In the hospital, silly," Michonne said, smoothing a hand through his curls.

"But why aren't we in quarantine?" Rick asked, even more confused.

"Apparently, when we returned, the effects of the coma completely disappeared, including the mysterious element that made us toxic."

"How long have we been back?" He grabbed her hand, not wanting another second to go by without touching her.

"We returned over a day ago, but you've been sleeping for most of that time."

"You snore," Judith chimed in, giving him a disgusted look.

"But how did we come back? I don't remember anything after falling asleep in bed together."

"Beats me," Michonne shrugged. "All I know is we're off that horrid island. And I'm reunited with this little terror."

She trapped Judith with her arm and rubbed her knuckles playfully across the top of her head.

"Mercy, Mom," Judith giggled.

Rick smiled. "I guess we.." his eyes flitted in Judith's direction, "...wished ourselves back to life."

Michonne's sexy laugh put him on edge, in a good way. "We'll have to do a lot more 'wishing' when we get home."

Judith looked between the two of them while fixing her disheveled hair. "Are you guys talking about kissing? Gross."

"Hush, this is grown folks' talk." She leaned forward and kissed Rick. "And we've got a lot of catching up to do."

Rick beamed, looking forward to all the happily ever after to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Bringing in the next installment of our Richonne Fairy Tale series is **Richonnelvr218**. She has put her own unique spin on this tale.

Please be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

**-We're The Ones Who Write **

* * *

**The Princess and Pea_Remix:**

Long, long ago in a kingdom far, far away lived an old king, his wife, and their son, Prince Richard, known as Rick. Handsome, dashing, and brave, Prince Rick was in search of what had eluded him for almost twenty-five years: his perfect princess. While his parents had their opinion of what that was, so did Prince Rick, and he refused to settle for anything less than his heart's desire. One cold, wet evening, he found perfection, but would his parents agree?

~*~/*\~*~

"Safe travels." With a tight smile and a wave of his hand, Prince Rick Grimestone sent away the latest of the suitable high-born ladies that his parents had selected for him to choose as his bride. This months-long process was not going well. The anniversary of his twenty-fifth year was in a fortnight, and the day after that momentous occasion he was to take a wife. He could not see himself married to any of the women his parents had paraded before him. He wasn't just looking for a princess; he was looking for a partner. He returned to the receiving room and his anxious parents. "No," he said flatly, with a frown and vehement shake of his head.

"What is this shit!" King Reginald groaned. "Lady Lori is quite lovely."

Rick rolled his eyes. The older and slower his father got the more unfiltered and stubborn he became. Firmly ensconced in his eighties, he lived like he ruled, his way. But not this time.

"She is lovely," Queen Deanna agreed.

"They were all lovely, but I want more than lovely. Whores are lovely." His mother gasped, but he continued as though he didn't hear it. "I want strong, intelligent, funny, assertive, and beautiful. I want love. This is the rest of my life, that's not asking too much."

"You're going to be king," said Reginald. "Your wife need not be assertive, just highborn, pretty, good at riding cock, and able to give you a healthy son." Deanna huffed at the phrasing, but said nothing. "Lady Lori can do that and love can come later. She's the last choice, and she's my choice for you. This is done. You will marry her."

Rick folded his arms and tilted his head, staring unflinching at the king. "Bloody hell, Father, no I won't!"

His mother gasped. "Richard!"

An apology rested on Rick's tongue, but he couldn't force it off. He wasn't sorry he'd said what he did. He most certainly could've said it in a different tone and used different words, not that his father ever would, but an apology wouldn't diminish the truth in his pronouncement. He wasn't marrying Lady Lori or any of the other two dozen women his parents had presented to him. Besides, Lori's decision to leave during a rainstorm, which he had no compulsion to fight, had him convinced she really wanted to be alone with her carriage driver, Shane. He would know his princess when they met, and he had not met her yet. His father had to accept that.

"You will not speak to me in that manner!" King Reginald leapt to his feet with amazing agility as his voice echoed in the vast hall. Circles of scarlet stained his wrinkled cheeks and fury narrowed the eyes that held years of wisdom and rule. "I have made a declaration, and it is final." Spittle formed at the corners of his lips. "In the morn I will send a raven to Sir Wayne informing him that his Lori has been chosen as your bride. That's that." Reginald extended his hand to the queen. "Deanna?"

"I will join you in our quarters shortly, my lord," she replied, standing.

Reginald acknowledged her words with a little nod and shuffled on his way.

Deanna turned unhappy eyes to her only child with the departure of her husband. "What are you thinking speaking to the king in that way?"

"Mother, he doesn't understand. You don't."

"It's you who does not understand, Richard. We have presented you with suitable ladies from every land in the realm, kingdoms far and wide, allowing you to make the choice, but you refuse."

"They don't speak to my heart." Rick sighed, pacing the floors of the great room. "I haven't met my princess, but I know she's out there. I refuse anyone but her."

"My son, 'her' is Lady Lori. You will be happy with her as I am with your father."

Rick scoffed.

"No, we did not come together in love. He was forty years older and I had no say in our union, but love came. He is my heart and I'm his. You must trust this decision."

"I must trust myself." Rick stormed from the room.

"Where are you going?" the queen demanded, her bejeweled cape sweeping the marble floor with a soft swish as she raced behind her son.

"I'm taking my horse for a ride." He sucked in a breath and turned to his mother. "I need to be alone. The night air will help clear my head."

"It is pouring and windy out."

"I don't mind."

"At least take a lantern."

"I don't need a lantern, and I won't be gone long."

"Rick, you shouldn't be so tortured." Deanna pressed a caring hand to his cheek. Streaks of gray stained her brown hair and tiny lines creased the corners of her eyes. His mother was a beautiful, kind woman that he respected, but on this they didn't agree. "The best of your life is about to start."

The tension in Rick's face belied the certainty in his mother's words. He couldn't fathom this best she spoke of with Lady Lori or any of the others in his future. This impending marriage was as appealing as mucking stables all day. He mumbled an acknowledgment and proceeded outside. Unhitching his steed from the post, Rick took off into the night with heavy raindrops falling on his head.

~*~/*\~*~

The pounding of hooves against the cobblestone road alerted Michonne Greenfield of approaching salvation. She'd been stuck in the rain too long. Independence would be her death. She sneezed, pulling the sopping cloak closer around her. She huddled against the large iron gate, attempting to gather her bearings. The castle she saw earlier in the distance was no doubt beyond the barrier, but it may as well have been in another land. She likely wouldn't have reached it in her exhausted state, but she would've tried.

The rain and wind had beaten her to submission. Still clutching the cloak, she blew against her hands, attempting to warm her fingers that were numb from the chilly night. Proving to her grandfather that she was more than a title would be moot if she perished from the elements. The change from winter to spring occasionally presented challenges. She loved the color yellow, but the yellow dust in the air did not always love her. Another loud sneeze rattled her teeth.

"Whoa!" The clopping slowed and came to an end. "Show yourself," a voice authoritative and strong, yet, curiously warm and concerned, called from beyond the gate.

Standing, Michonne turned to the voice and lowered the hooded cloak to her neck. The sheets of rain and gusts of wind stopped and nocturnal dwellers engaged in song. The moon, once hidden behind dark clouds, brightly illuminated the night, bathing the rider in a translucent glow. Darkness surrounded them, but it was as if a beam of sunlight had descended, making the other the only thing each could see.

The widening smile on his full lips warmed her, chasing away the cold that had chilled her bones. He sat tall and proud atop his steed. His shoulders square, but relaxed. Damp dark hair clung to his forehead giving boyish charm to his regal look. His clothing and character spoke the part. He was a prince.

He licked his lips as she did the same. His blue-eyed gaze shameless at it raked over and through her. Beyond her simple dress and into places she'd never shared with anyone. He was a very handsome man. Tingles and moisture settled between her thighs. What was this strange new sensation he made her feel?

"You're all wet."

She blinked at his words and the racing of her heart. Was he a wizard, able to see what she felt? "What?"

"You're, uh, you're drenched, my lady." He dismounted and opened the enclosure. His bow-legged gait proud. She found everything about that appealing. "Grimestone Castle isn't far. I'll give you a ride."

"I appreciate the offer, Your Highness. Thank you."

"Richard. Rick."

"Pardon, Your Majesty?"

"Call me Rick, my lady."

"I'm Michonne," she said, curtsying.

Rick bowed. "My pleasure, Lady Michonne." He extended his hand with a flourish. "Come along with me."

Michonne smiled. The way he looked at her, she would follow him anywhere. This was not the adventure she expected, but every bit the one she wanted to have. Rick was making her feel things. New and exciting things. She accepted his hand.

Their fingers twined at contact. Rick's chest rose and fell as he stroked her hair and caressed her cheek. "You are most beautiful." He ushered her to the horse and mounted before reaching for her again, assisting her sidesaddle into his protective arms.

Rick's breath hitched when he reached for the harness and more than the wall of muscle that was his chest brushed against her. Restless butterflies flitted in her stomach and her heart pounded widely. Yes, she was feeling all sorts of new things.

"I am sorry," he said contritely. Michonne grinned and nestled further into his arms, brushing the tight ball of hardness at her thigh. Rick groaned, loud and deep. "You are killing me."

"I never knew death could feel so wonderful." She trailed her hand along his chest. In her twenty-three years, she had never known a man, but this one owned her very soul, and she wanted to possess him in every way. "Do you feel this, too?"

"I do. I knew I would find you, and here you are." Rick cupped her cheek. "Michonne, fair maiden, you will be my princess."

~*~/*\~*~

"Tell me, why are you dressed like a servant girl?" Rick asked, directing the horse in a slow trot toward the castle, curious to know about the treasure he'd found at the gate who would soon become his bride.

"How do you know I'm not?" Michonne replied.

He laughed. "You are not. Your nobility is as obvious as your beauty. Why the masquerade?"

"I want to fight. To be a warrior. My grandfather the king, he is old and stubborn. My parents died when I was a girl, and he doted upon me, spoiled me. He had me trained by a master swordsman because I wanted it, but he won't let me fight. It is the height of foolishness."

"Where is your sword?"

"My grandfather took it away." She sighed. "He will not bend, and I refuse to be controlled."

"Running and wearing a simple dress will not change who you are, Princess."

"Yes, but I'm more than a princess. More than just a lady made to marry who he instructs and make little princes and princesses. I will not be told what I can and cannot do. My heartbeat makes me alive. I should have say in my life."

With every word she spoke Rick's fondness grew. Michonne was everything he wanted and more. "Your grandfather sounds like my father. His name is not Reginald, is it?" he quipped.

She laughed. "Hershel."

"Of the Green Lands?"

"Yes."

"Why did you not…" Rick ended his words. Michonne was independent, willful, and beautiful. She would not respond to a prince's call for a bride.

"Had I known you were the prince in the raven's message, I wouldn't have been so defiant at Grandfather's suggestion I present myself."

"You are not a sorceress, yet you read my mind." He drew closer to her, breathing in her essence of rosewater and refreshing lemon. Flowing braids framed her beautiful face, setting off her almond eyes, full lips, and her radiant mahogany skin. Rick sighed. She was flawless, lovely, and felt so soft. His cock grew harder, aching in his breeches for relief only she could provide. "What am I thinking right now?"

Michonne leaned further into his arms. "Thoughts that stir feelings that thrill me to consider." She trembled ever so slightly.

Rick drew nearer. "Are you chilled?" he asked, curling his arms around her waist.

"No. I am on fire for you, Rick. Us, this feeling, it is all, all so new, but it feels so..."

"I know."

The urge to taste her lips became too great to resist. Bringing the horse to a stop steps from the castle door, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth to hers. A spark, like the striking of flint, shook him, fueling his need for more. His lips devoured hers, drinking from them like they were sweet wine, but sweeter.

Hunger and reticence filled Michonne's soulful whimper at the meeting of his tongue to hers. "Rick, I haven't…"

"Of course, my lady." She need not say another word. He pulled back with a smile. "There is much I can teach you before our wedding night," he said reassuringly.

"I have not consented to be your wife."

The challenge in her smirk so endeared him. "Oh, but you have." He claimed her lips once more. "Let's get inside and out of these damp clothes."

"And into what, Rick?"

"Dry clothes, my bed." He shrugged, feeling so cheerful and light. "Options are limitless, and all only of your choosing."

Queen Deanna raced over when he entered with Michonne. "Son, you have returned. I was worried for you."

"You had no need to worry, I was just at the gate."

"You've been gone a while."

"It didn't seem as such." Rick smiled at Michonne and pulled her closer. "The most wonderful thing happened. I have found my bride. This is Princess Michonne of the Green Lands."

"Princess?"

His mother said the word with some doubt, but if Michonne noticed she didn't show it. "Greetings, Your Highness." Michonne curtsied and sneezed. "Forgive me." She sniffled.

"It is quite all right, dear." Deanna touched Michonne's shoulder in assurance. "My, but you are soaked to the skin." She reached for the nearby bell, calling for her maid, Hermene, who appeared moments later. "Draw a bath for Princess Michonne and select one of my dresses and place it in the guest chamber next to Rick's room."

"Yes, my lady," answered the full-figured, fifty-something Hermene. "I have hot water ready now."

"Very good." Deanna turned to Michonne. "The dress might be a little roomy, but it will also be dry."

"Thank you for your graciousness, Your Highness."

She tapped Michonne's hand. "Not at all. And tea, Hermene, bring her some tea."

"Yes, my lady."

"Go along with Hermene, she will take care of you," Rick said with a kiss to Michonne's cheek. "I will see you soon."

Rick watched her leave, his heart so full he could float to the high ceiling. He sighed. "Is she not perfect, Mother?"

"She is lovely and has the correct social graces, but how can you know she is of nobility? A princess?"

"Because she is. It's her aura, not her dress, and she told me so." He moved over to the chair, but reconsidered sitting. He was still drenched.

"It takes more than aura. You cannot marry a commoner. People are still whispering about the glass-shoe waif that Henry wed," Deanna said in a whisper. She scoffed. "The scandal."

Rick laughed. "Their marriage is not a secret nor was it a scandal, Mother. Ella is quite lovely, and she's a princess now, as Michonne has always been. Michonne is my choice, I want her, and I will marry her." He kissed Deanna's cheek. "I'm going to change out of these clothes. Michonne and I will meet you and Father in the great room later."

"Rick?"

"She already has my heart, and I'm going to happily spend my life with her."

"If she is not highborn, your father will not allow it."

"Do I look concerned, Mother?"

On his way to his room, Rick made a detour to the bathing room, cracking the door just in time to see Michonne step foot into the tub, her glorious backside in full view. Rick stared, enraptured. The gods had truly blessed him.

Turn around. Turn around.

Rick's silent plea was answered when with both feet in, Michonne turned to sit, providing a full view of all she had to offer. Full, pert breasts standing tall and proud; flat stomach; curvy hips; and long, slender legs that seemed to go on forever. She was perfection.

The scent of rose wafted with the steam from the water. His mother maintained a wide collection of varying scented oils, and it seemed Michonne was partial to rose. She was a perfect rose. Soft, delicate, beautiful. And with her confessed skill with the sword, she, too, could prick someone like the thorns of a rose.

With Hermene nowhere in sight, probably off to set out the dress, Rick entered the room. Wood crackled in the fireplace, and shadows danced on the walls. His shadow.

"Before the shadow, I knew you were there," she said as he came to stand before her. "Am I all you expected, Rick?"

"More." He kneeled beside the large wooden tub and reached for the washcloth in her hand. "May I?"

"Join me," she countered, holding the cloth to her chest. "Hermene is not coming back, and there is enough room for you."

Rick wasted no time stripping out of his wet clothes. He didn't care that he would smell like rosewater, this was too tempting an offer to pass up. Michonne's eyes widened when he stepped into the tub, standing before her in all his naked glory. He knew she'd never known a man, and chances were she hadn't seen one, so he wanted her to take a good look.

A shaky hand reached out for him, before quickly retreating to the water that stopped just above her belly button.

"It is fine to touch me, Michonne. It would please me, and I am yours to do with as you please."

Her dripping fingers glided gingerly along his protruding length, back and forth. Rick closed his eyes, forcing back the string of curses derived from the pleasure of her delicate ministrations. She closed her small hand around him as best she could, adding pressure to her movement. A moan escaped his lips. Like heated silk upon him, her touch was soft, pleasing, and comforting. With one hand stroking him, she reached out with the other, hefting his sacks in her palm.

"You are so warm, so hard." He pulsed and throbbed wildly as her movement increased.

He bit down on his lower lip, feeling things go too far. "Michonne, you should stop now."

"Does this not please you?" she said, her stroking continued.

"Very much. That's why you must stop." He held her hands and eased down into the tub. The steamy water offering some relief to the urgency in his loins.

"Are you - are you always like that?"

"Since I met you? Yes. In general? No." He retrieved the washcloth and began bathing her arms and shoulders. "I will be gentle with you in our marriage bed, but you will have pain the first time."

Michonne nodded. "I heard about the pain," she said, scooping water and smoothing it over him. The muscles of his chest and arms receiving extra attention. "The servants giggle. My friends have talked." She gnawed nervously on her lower lip. "You are quite large."

"Yes." Her words weren't untrue. "But I can make things somewhat easier for you."

"How?"

Rick dropped the washcloth and kissed her neck. "By doing this." He cupped a breast, tweaking the pebbled nipple. Feeling it grow harder between his thumb and forefinger. Michonne closed her eyes, moaning. "You like that?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"It gets better."

He kissed her, gently nibbling on her lower lip while his hand inched toward her upper thigh. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing became shaky. "Rick, what are you doing?"

"Preparing you for our wedding night, but I'll stop if you wish."

She shook her head. "Do not."

"After we met, you got wet down there, didn't you?" Michonne's eyes dropped in silent confession. "No, no," he said. "Don't feel embarrassed. It meant you wanted me. That is a good thing. That feeling makes it easier."

"You make me feel so wanton. I am sitting naked in a tub with you, but I'm as comfortable as if I'm alone. I have never felt like this for anyone."

"I'm glad. I only want you to feel that for me." Maintaining her gaze, he moved beyond the thick thatch of hair and stroked her sex, evoking her sharp intake of breath. "This pussy, and you, are mine, Michonne, and I'm about to give you a taste of pleasure."

~*~/*\~*~

Rick's lips locked on her neck, suckling her pounding pulse points. Michonne arched her neck, allowing more access. Busy, thick fingers remained buried between her legs, strumming her bud with enticing shivers and teasing her opening with the promise of entry. His lips trailed downward, taking a breast into his mouth. His teeth gently nipped her taut nipple as his tongue eased the tantalizing sting. She throbbed down below. The sweet agony robbing her of reason. He attended her other breast as his fingers stoked the flames burning for him at her core. His name fell from her lips as her legs raised and knees parted, in need of more of this new sensation. A remedy to the ache that cried for his touch and had grown like a wildfire out of control.

Him.

The heaviness of him. That delightfully warm hardness she could barely hold in her hand. She wanted it. Needed it like she did her next breath. Her fingers threaded his hair, and hips writhed against the cloth lining the tub. "Rick," she murmured, the pleading desire in her voice making it unrecognizable to her ears.

His lips seized hers and his tongue lured hers into his mouth as a finger entered her swiftly. Her breath caught. He withdrew and re-entered, adding a second finger. She whimpered. The pleasure profound, but the discomfort evident. If this was his fingers with her submerged in water, how could she ever endure his length?

"Tonight is not ours, Michonne," said Rick, somehow always able to read her very thoughts. "You are not ready, but I will give you joy this night, as you have already given me. Ready you for our coming together as man and wife."

Light from the fire shone on his face, showing the reverence in his eyes of blue as he looked upon her. "You are not disappointed?" she asked.

Rick scoffed. "My lady, you could not disappoint me if you tried." He stroked her cheek. "I have awaited you for almost twenty-five years, and here you are. Everything I ever dreamed and more. My disappointment is that I will awaken and find you were just a dream. This moment with the tightness of you around my fingers a beautiful illusion." His digits moved within her, bringing forth a moan from that place only he could reach. "You are real, are you not?"

"I am."

"Hence, I am yours forever. You had my heart at the gate."

"As you mine, Rick."

His kiss smothered her chorus of moans. The rapid entry and slow retreat of his fingers in tandem with the strumming of his thumb against her clit making the earlier discomfort a distant memory. Her walls gripped his fingers, wanting to keep him inside. A strange tightening settled deep within her, and with every stroke of Rick's fingers that pressure increased. Like an itch only he could scratch, and his scratching felt so, so good.

"Hold on to me," he instructed.

Removing his fingers, Rick palmed her bottom and hoisted her to his mouth, her dripping legs hung over his shoulders and her arms wrapped about his head. Stars floated before her eyes at the feel of his warm tongue and suckling lips between her slick, sensitive folds. Her hands gripped his hair as his tongue invaded her. The more he lapped the wetter she got. The reverberation of his moans and movement of his mouth against her driving her near mad. He was scratching that itch, building the pressure. In her wildest dreams, she never imagine her day ending like…

"Ohhh!" The pressure released with the arch of her back and curl of her toes. Her thoughts fled as he clung to her quaking body, devouring every drop she offered, maintaining his intimate kiss. Her legs tightened around his head as another eruption rocked her. He held her closer, sending his tongue deeper. "Rick, please, please."

Stroking her back, Rick bore the weight of her limp, trembling body, until her movements ceased and her breathing evened. He lowered her to the tub, a big smile on his glistening lips. "Did you like that?"

Unable to form a single word, she nodded vigorously. How he was able to hold her up and do what he did… Those beautiful muscles were not just for show. He was so strong and so skilled. She liked it all very much.

He licked his lips and kissed hers. "Good, me, too." Following a kiss to her forehead, he stood from the tub. "We should get dry and into clothing. We are to join my parents in the drawing room."

"Wait."

"Do not tell me you want more." He smirked. "My lady, I trust you've had enough for one evening."

"You have not." She glanced down at his erection. He gave her such pleasure when he placed his mouth on her. Would it be the same for him? She closed a hand around the hairy end of him and traced a finger around the edge of the helmet end. There was but one way to know. She touched her tongue to him and licked as he did with her.

Rick shivered. "My lady." His trembling breath and hand on her forehead paused her motions. "What are you doing?"

"What you did to me. It gave me such joy." She tingled at the memory. "I want to give you that joy."

"Princess, you have given that to me. Your joy is my pleasure."

"Yet, you stay like this."

He shrugged. "You are my hunger."

"Allow me to satisfy your hunger by feeding on you." She stroked his length. "I want to do this." A pearly droplet appeared at his tip. Her tongue traced the slit, gathering the droplet that tasted of salt and smelled of rosewater. Rick sucked in a ragged breath. "Am I not doing it right?"

"Nothing you do is wrong. When you are alone with me like this, what feels right is right."

"Good." Michonne dragged her tongue from tip to base. "This feels right. You feel so right to me, Rick." She took him into her mouth, moving her head down his shaft as his fingers had moved in her.

Rick's breathing grew heavy, his sighs deeper. "Michonne." His fingers twined in her braids, urging her movements. "Oh, yes."

That now familiar stirring returned to her center as she pleasured him. He said her joy gave him pleasure, and the same was true for her. Missing the feel of his fingers inside her, she met his gaze and touched herself. Three fingers slid easily between her folds, flicking her aroused clit, before jamming the fingers into her heat, joining Rick in his moans.

"Are you feeling me inside your pussy, Princess?" She mumbled in the affirmative around him. "Show me how you want it."

He expanded in her mouth, nearly stretching it to the limit as she worked madly at her needy sex as his talk continued. Her hand at his base moved to his sack, giving him a squeeze. She suckled on his swollen head and clung to the fingers she drove in and out of her heat, images of his bulging dick doing the work of her fingers enthralling her. A swear flew from Rick's lips. "Pull back, my lady," he said through haggard breaths. "I am close."

She didn't want to pull back. She wanted to stay with him as he stayed with her. She suckled harder, spreading her legs with the growing smack of her fingers in her dripping pussy.

"You are not ready for this, Princess." He threw his head back, groaning. "I know you are feeling wondrous new things, but baby steps," he said in a rush. "You must trust me."

"I do." Michonne licked him once more and pulled away not a moment too soon as he swore loudly, moaning satisfaction, while stream after stream of hot liquid showered her, its intensity and her self gratification spiraling her to another thunderous release.

Rick sunk into the tub, clinging to the edge, gasping for breath as she did the same. He had been right. To keep him in her mouth would have likely drowned her. Michonne smiled at him as he looked upon her with love and amazement.

"I'm sorry about all the..." he said when his breathing evened, motioning at her covered body.

"No need to be." She kissed his chest and then splashed herself with water. "I'm glad I gave you pleasure."

"So much more than pleasure." He assisted in cleaning her and brought her into his arms. "You have given me wholeness." He kissed her tenderly, twirling a finger around braids. "Thank you for finding me."

"We found each other, Rick. You have awoken something in me."

"You will be ready on our wedding night, and it will be tomorrow."

"What?" She gasped. "Tomorrow?"

"I love you, Princess Michonne Greenfield of the Green Lands, and I cannot wait another day to have you fully. Two weeks will surely kill me. Tomorrow, you will become my princess, Princess. If that is alright with you."

"It is." She clung to him. "I love you, Rick."

"We can celebrate our union in the Green Lands, since your grandfather can't be here in time for the wedding. Give him a happy surprise."

"He will give us the biggest celebration."

"No, I will give you the biggest celebration, tomorrow." His kiss was filled with passion and promise. "Let us get dressed." He stepped out of the tub and lifted her out. "We must tell my parents the news."

~*~/*\~*~

"That went very well, did it not?" Rick said, escorting Michonne to her room after their meeting with his parents. His mother wanted them to wait a few days to get word to the Green Lands, but they were having none of that, so she relented. Plans were made for a private afternoon wedding in the garden. "I should have warned you about my father. He speaks whatever comes to mind. Because he's old and the king, he thinks he can get away with it."

"And he can," she said laughing. "Just like my grandfather. King Reginald was harmless."

"He wasn't talking about horses when he asked if you like to ride, and insisted he and Mother loved riding, and that you and I would love riding together."

Michonne's laughter increased. "I know that, too. But he won me over asking about my skills with the sword."

"As you did him when you bested Percy in the challenge. Next to me, he's our best fighter, and easily the biggest, and you had him pinned on his back in mere minutes, and he gave you his very best."

"There is a warrior in me, Rick."

"Indeed." He kissed her hand. "You know, my mother has always wanted a daughter, and she has taken to you almost as much as my father and I."

"The queen is very nice, but…"

"But?" Rick shook his head. "She likes you, Michonne. You're wearing one of her dresses now, and the seamers are altering her wedding dress for you to wear tomorrow. If she didn't like you, she would have insisted you borrow one of Hermene's dresses for both instances."

"She was very cordial, and it was nice of her to have the extra mattresses placed on the bed so I could start my wedding day from a bed as high and soft as a cloud, but I don't know. She seemed reserved, like she didn't want to like me too much. Perhaps she wanted us to wait those few days to be sure I wouldn't break your heart."

"You wouldn't dream of doing that, would you?"

"Waiting or breaking your heart?"

"Both. Either."

"Never. I am yours," she said with a kiss that ended in a yawn. "I'm also very tired."

"If you think this is tired, just wait until tomorrow night." He held her close, squeezing her bottom cheeks and kissing the ones on top. "Get much rest, my lady, you will need it."

Rick retired to his room, and quickly fell into sweet dreams of all tomorrow held. It seemed he had just closed his eyes when he was jostled awake by Michonne's voice that he first assumed was from his dream.

He sat up quickly, his eyes stinging from the lantern she had placed on his nightstand. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. I cannot rest."

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Not at all." She shook her. "The bed is uncomfortable. It feels so lumpy."

"Lumpy?" He rubbed his eyes. "Maybe there are too many mattresses. I can remove some for you."

"Could you? I know your mother was trying to be sweet, but now I need rest."

"You could sleep here."

"I wouldn't want to insult her or bring shame having the servants find me here. The room is comfortable, but the bed is -"

"Lumpy," Rick finished with a smile, wondering how Michonne will take discovering he slept in nothing. "I will take care of that."

Michonne stopped him as he pulled back the covers, probably noting the tent. "On second thought, don't bother. Your mother wanted me to start the first day of our life together on a high note in all ways, and it will." She kissed him and pulled the covers up to his neck, almost as if she knew he was naked and aroused underneath and didn't want to confirm or tempt things. "Go back to sleep. I'll be fine."

Rick smiled as she gathered the lantern and rushed off. Yes, she had definitely noticed.

~*~/*\~*~

The sun peeking through his window woke Rick to a new day. He sat up and stretched, his heart pounding with excitement. In a few short hours his dreams would become reality. He would wed the bride he wanted. His equal in all things. His greatest love. He hopped out of bed and pulled on his breeches. A few kisses from Michonne seemed the best way to start his wedding day.

He walked in without knocking, secretly hoping to catch her undressed, but got the surprise of finding the numerous mattresses gone and Michonne on the the edge of the bed in his mother's loving embrace. He cleared his throat. "Am I interrupting?" he said with a smile.

Deanna kissed Michonne's cheek and turned to him. "What are you doing in here, Richard?"

"Saying good morning to my queen to be. What are you doing here?"

"Welcoming my daughter to the family." She pressed her hand to Michonne's cheek. "Join me for breakfast, hmm?"

Michonne nodded. "I will be with you in a few minutes," she replied.

Rick offered his mother his cheek as she passed, her beaming smile as she departed making him happier than he already was. "You two have gotten even closer," he said to Michonne, sitting beside her on the bed.

"We have."

"How did you sleep last night?"

"Horribly. I didn't get a wink."

"The lumpy mattress didn't get better?"

"Not at all."

"I am sorry, because I slept wonderfully."

Michonne grunted. "I'm sure," she said, glancing at his crotch, confirming her knowledge of his aroused state last night. Rick bit back a smile. She so enchanted him. "My lack of sleep is why the queen and I are closer. She came in hours ago, had the servants remove the mattresses, and we talked about it. It was a wonderful conversation."

Rick blinked. "Okay," he said, clueless as to how sleep deprivation equaled good conversation, but figured it was a woman thing. "What's that in your hand?"

"A gift from your mother. It's a pea."

"My mother gave you a pea?"

"Actually, she gave it to both of us."

"Why?"

"Because she loves you. She had it placed underneath the bottom mattress. It is why I couldn't sleep." Michonne smiled. "She was thrilled."

"Why would your lack of sleep please Mother? And how could this little pea..."

"It was a test she needed me to take, and I passed, but the best part is she had already decided during the night that the results didn't matter. That this pea would just be a reminder of how much we both love you." Michonne sniffled. "It is a really beautiful, meaningful present."

"Of course." Rick rolled his eyes. Women. "Can I see our present?" he said, taking the green pea and inspecting it. "It is beautiful." He popped it in his mouth and chewed. "It's also delicious and gone."

Michonne scoffed. "Rick!" she swatted his chest.

"In a few more hours, you'll be shouting my name like that a lot." He wrapped her in his arms as she laughed with him. "And I can't wait."

Hours later…

Rick licked his lips, devouring the remnants of his wife's essence that lingered on his lips. He had been so greedy for Michonne, and with her coming down from her first orgasm of the night, courtesy of his eager tongue, her throbbing pussy wet and ready, he couldn't wait another minute to sink into her depths.

"Tell me what you want?" he said with a growl.

"I want you to take me slow and deep, hard and fast, over and over. I want you inside me now, Rick." Michonne writhed on the bed, spread-eagle, beckoning to him with the flex of her finger. "I want you to fill me up."

Holding himself, he tapped on her entry door. She sucked in a breath, and grabbed hold of his forearm as he slowly eased forward. His eyes closed as her tightness surrounded him, luring him further inside with its delights. She whispered his name, parting her legs further as she raked her fingers through his unruly brown curls, turning him on all the more.

He continued on his slow, purposeful journey. The desire to unbridle the horse and let it run free was strong, but not ideal, not yet. The candlelit room was cool, comfortable, like the beautiful day they had, but he felt the sweat beading his forehead. Restraint was a tough job. He withdrew quickly and slowly plowed forward again, increasing his depth another inch or two. After pausing a moment, allowing her to adjust to his dimensions, he pulled out slowly and then pressed forward a little faster.

"Mmm, Rick, please. I want to feel all of you."

"Princess, I will hurt you."

"Your love cannot hurt me." She grabbed his bottom and arched her hips.

"Shit!" Instinct pushed him forward, surging completely into her heat. Michonne cried out in pleasure, pain, or both. Rick wanted to move. His head screamed move, his aching dick demanded it, but his heart refused to engage. Not if it would hurt her. Oh, the struggle when it came to love.

While he engaged in his internal battle, Michonne started to move. Tentative thrusts forward that ended his conflict. "I'm okay," she said.

Rick held her hips, allowing her to lead. "Michonne, Princess, you feel so good. Oh." They had just started and he was so close. She was so tight, so hot. He closed his eyes, trying to endure the pleasure as he met her thrust with one of his own.

Her hip swerved to the right and his to the left. She slid down, he slid up and on and on until their dance found its rhythm. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her soft feet dragged up and down his calves. He feasted on her breasts, bathing the hardened tips with his tongue. Feeling them grow harder, tauter against his lips. Her walls closed tighter around him as her legs did the same, propelling him beneath her.

Mutual sighs of pleasure and the alluring scent of their joined bodies stoked the burning embers in his loins. He pushed the hair off her shoulders, mesmerized by her beauty and the unflinching love he saw in her eyes as she rode him unencumbered. Her breast bouncing, hips swaying, face the picture of bliss. Their movements increased as his hands squeezed and explored, searching for that unchartered speck of territory he hadn't already discovered.

Rick's arms snaked from her bottom up her back, cupping her shoulders as he brought her chest to his and flipped her beneath him. He hiked her leg against him, driving further and deeper, over and over to the delight of her cries of his name. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, rocking with him. His balls tightened, signaling the approaching buildup. Their mouths found harmony and tongues joined in the dance as one final thrust sent them spiraling to mutual climax, with promises of forever love falling from their lips.

When the ability to do more than smile returned, a sated Rick kissed Michonne's forehead. "This is the happiest day of my life." Michonne nestled closer in his arms, sighing softly in agreement. "I have something for you."

"Again?" Michonne sat up, tilting her head, groaning in exaggeration. "Already?"

Rick laughed heartily. "No, not that. Not just yet." He pointed to the table across the way. "It's over there, underneath the covering."

"I have to go over there to get it?"

"The table won't come here."

"You just want to ogle my bottom."

"It's a fabulous bottom." He tapped her backside and gave it a squeeze. "But there is something for you. Call it another wedding present."

"Okay." Michonne hustled over to the table and lifted the cloth on top. She gasped. "Rick."

He sat up in bed, smiling. "Do you like it?"

She picked up sword that had belonged to his maternal great grandfather, admiring it. Light from the candles reflected on the high-gloss shine. "It is beautiful."

"Just like you. This weapon has been a part of my family for generations. You told me you were more than just a title, and you are, but your title as my wife has benefits. With me, you will not only be a warrior, but as my queen, you will lead the army with me. Are you happy?"

"Rick." Michonne placed the sword on the table and raced back to the bed and his arms. "I am very happy."

And happy they remained forever after, finding in each other and their four little princes and princesses their every hope and dream.

The End


	3. Chapter 3

We hope you are enjoying our Fairy Tale series. Next up is **Thematsaidwelcome** and her sexy take on Little Red Riding Hood.

Please be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

**Michonne's little red dress unleashes Rick's Big Bad Wolf.**

"Michonne, I'm so glad you made it. I was worried when I called to confirm with Rick a few days ago and he said you been out of town."

"I just got in a couple hours ago," Michonne took a breath to steady her heart. She'd been rushing since she stepped off the plane earlier. "I made it to the costume rental place just before they closed. This was the only thing they had left." Michonne turned a full 360 degrees for her friend and Halloween party hostess, Maggie so she could see the long red hooded cape she wore over her red dress. Maggie whistled at how good her friend looked. She closed the front door behind her and they stood to talk a little more in the foyer.

"Talk about a fairy tale." Maggie dressed in a black and white checkered bodysuit, looked great with her new short bob haircut and fuchsia high heels.

"Little Red Riding Hood. I love it!. Did it come with that dress?"

"No. I found it in the back of the closet. I've never worn it because it's too tight up here," Michonne discreetly pointed to her rounded breasts that were spilling up out of the top of the dress. "And it's too short. Rick had a fit when I tried it on for him about six months ago. But I figured with the cape, I can cover all my goodies."

!

"What's in the basket?" Maggie pointed to the light brown wicker basket that Michonne was holding.

"Things for my sick grandmother," Michonne laughed then quieted."Just my keys and phone."

"Is Rick parking the car? I know the street is crazy. I think the house a few doors down is having a party too."

"No. He's not here?" Michonne slumped her shoulders and hung her head. "I was hoping to meet him here. He did say he might be called in to cover someone's shift. Shit."

"Awe, honey. I'm sorry. How long has it been since you seen him?"

"Twelve days Maggie. Twelve very long days that I've been out of town. What kind of place sends their employees out of town for twelve days? I miss his face." Maggie held in the laugh that Michonne's pout caused. "I just knew he'd be here already."

"It's not that late, maybe he'll waltz in here in a few minutes in all his Officer Friendly sheriff deputy glory and y'all can have your reunion. He sounded pretty sad too when I talked to him the other day. Did you at least get to see the kids before you came over here?"

"Yeah, I got my hugs and kisses in, but they're with Grandma, and tonight is pumpkin carving night. I don't even think they noticed that I left."

"Let's go get you a much needed drink." They walked through the large great room, waving and smiling at familiar faces on their way. "Oh, and if Abe comes up to you and asks if you want to see something shiny, say no. He's a kilt wearing leprechaun this year and he's not wearing any underwear."

"Of course he's not. Thanks for the warning."

"Oh hey, Mich. I'm glad you could make it," Glenn said circling his arms around her in a tight hug. "It's been forever since I've seen you. How have you been?"

"Good. Busy, but good. I'm glad to be back home now. Business trips are the worst." Michonne stopped and studied the Rhee's for a while, eyes darting back and forth to Maggie and Glenn. "Okay, I get it. I see the coordination with the costumes. Clever." Glenn bobbed his shoulders to show off the race car driver costume he was wearing. It was yellow and black, and even came with a candy sponsor across the chest."

"I told Maggie, that when she sees me speeding by her, she has to wiggle her ass like it's the checkered flag at the Indy 500." Maggie rolled her eyes as Glenn laughed.

"And I told him, no chance. He's lucky he got me into this thing."

"Doesn't she look good, though." Glenn wrapped his arms around Maggie's waist and pulled her in for kiss that lasted longer than your standard peck on the lips when someone was watching. Michonne took that as her cue to keep walking towards the kitchen. She really wanted that drink now more than ever and she wanted to find a quiet corner so she could give Rick a call.

"Well if it isn't Mrs. Grimes," Abe's booming voice came sounding from behind her as she poured an unnamed purple concoction into a red Solo cup. "Looking not a bit scary in that sexy costume of yours. Did your husband let you out of the house looking like that?"

"Leave her alone Abe. Last I checked she was a grown woman and could wear whatever she wanted." Michonne took a sip of her drink, coughing a bit at the amount of vodka that was used. She smiled when she saw Sasha standing next to Abe. She had glued plastic gold coins to a white shirt and her big round belly served as the pot of gold. She wore knee high rainbow socks with a rainbow wig covering her dark natural hair. Her and Abe looked adorable together. "Don't say it. I know I'm huge," Sasha rubbed her belly, careful not to knock off any of the coins. "I don't know what I was thinking having babies with him. This kid is going to tear me apart."

"He better not!" Abe boomed. Michonne laughed at the pained look on both their faces.

"I don't know how you do it girl. I'll drink one for you Sash."

"Where's Rick?" Abe asked pouring a drink for himself.

"Work it looks like," Michonne frowned. "I was expecting him to be here by now."

"Well, you know you can always hang with us until he gets here. He is coming right?" Sasha asked.

"I don't know, I was gonna give him a call after I got this drink." She look a bigger sip this time, used to the vodka now.

"You know I'm good with distracting," Abe gave her a large grin. "You wanna see something shiny?"

"No!" both women shouted at the same time.

"Abraham Ford, if you don't leave your ass under that kilt…."

"What? I'm just trying to get her mind off her husband for a bit. You know my ass always distracts you." He wiggled his eyebrows and pulled Sasha as close to his body as her belly would allow before leaning down and kissing her. Michonne walked away shaking her head and missing Rick even more.

She walked around the crowded first floor, noticing that all the couples had coordinated their costumes. There was a mermaid and a sailor, Mickey and Minnie, Ken and Barbie and a whole host of others. It made Michonne smile at the creativity, but also sad that she didn't have Rick to share in the fun with. Taking the steps one at a time to get upstairs and away from the noise, Michonne pulled out her phone and called Rick. She listened to the ringing as she got higher up the steps and then his voicemail came on just as she stepped onto the landing. Deciding not to leave a message, she hung up and slipped the phone back into the wicker basket she was holding, hearing it jingle her keys as it landed on top of them. Sighing she walked to the small powder room to the right and used the restroom and touched up her red lipstick before heading back downstairs to hitch a ride as someone's third wheel for the night.

"So I was just standing there and all of a sudden it dawned on me; a tiger and a zookeeper."

"Like duh, what else would we be?" Carol laughed. The khaki shorts set she wore completely washed out her complexion with her grey hair and blue eyes looking dull and lifeless, but in the name of love you'd do just about anything. She smiled up at Zeke who looked completely at ease in his tiger onesie.

"Well, you two look grr-reat!"

"We were waiting for someone to say that. Thank you Abe for being the one who did," Carol said with a smile that was fake to those who knew her well enough.

"You're quite welcome," He tipped his little green hat as Sasha rolled her eyes, looking to Michonne for help who just shrugged her shoulders at a loss to what Sasha could do about her husband.

"Oh, don't look now Michonne, but the big bad wolf just walked in." Everyone turned to see a tall grey wolf walk through the door in full costume. His grey fur was all over the place and the fangs of his mask looked too real not to be scary. "We need Rick to show up before he thinks you're his Little Red."

"There's probably a few pigs around the corner that he's here with Abe. I can take care of myself if he tries to crossover into my fairytale." The hired DJ started playing Eye of the Tiger so Carol led Zeke out to the middle of the dance floor. The other couples dispersed too, either going to go dance or grab another drink from the kitchen. Michonne spotted Eugene and Rosita who were dressed as mad scientists. Pocket protectors and goggles on their heads as well as vinyl black gloves that really pulled off the look. They were standing and talking to Daryl and Connie who were dressed as motorcycle riding arch angels. Head to toe leather, except for the feather wings that were attached to their backs. The group was laughing at something Eugene had said and the response that Dawn signed.

Michonne looked around the room, her eyes landing on the big bad grey wolf who seemed to be watching her. Pulling out her phone, she checked to see if Rick had called and was disappointed when she saw no missed calls from him. She ascended the stairs again to try to get him on the phone so she could at least hear his voice. Walking towards the room that Glenn used for his office, she pushed the redial button and waited as the ringing started. Listening with the phone to her right ear, she caught the sound of a phone ringing in her left. Turning as she got to the door, she saw the grey wolf stalking her way before stopping at the end of the hallway when he noticed she was watching him. The slight bow of his leg, gave him away, but Michonne decided to play her part. She ended the call and the ringing stopped.

"Did you need something up here Mr….Wolf?" He took a couple of steps towards her nodding his head up and down. "I'm just looking for my grandmother. I have this basket for her because she's sick and I needed to make sure she was okay. Have you seen her?"

"I haven't seen anyone but you. I don't mind helping you look for her if you want me too."

"That's very kind of you."

"She might be in one of the bedrooms up here."

"Oh my," Michonne took a deep breath to steady herself against the sound of his voice. "What a deep voice you have." The grey wolf had closed the distance between them and was standing right in front of her.

"The better to greet you with," he placed his hand on the door knob, his arm brushing her hip making her shiver in her red cape. "Looks to be empty," he said when the door swung open revealing Glenn's office.

"She's probably lying down, we should try to find a room with a bed in it."

"That's a good idea." Michonne walked away, swaying her hips a bit more than usual even though the cape was covering any curves that the big bad wolf might see. Coming to the next door, she turned quickly, the fast motion revealing her delectable decolletage. Even though his face was covered with a mask, she knew by the slight warning tilt of his head that he had noticed.

"Oh my, what big eyes you have." He stepped close enough for her to see the lust in his eyes through the mesh eye holes of the mask.

"The better to see you with." Michonne could tell that he was looking her up and down. She stood taller and brushed one side of her long cape over her shoulder so he could get a better look at her strappy red heel, and toned thighs that were barely covered by the red dress.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Very much. What's in that room?" He asked with a shaky voice, indicating with his head the door behind her. She turned and the new position of her cape gave him a little view of her round ass under the flare of her short dress. Reaching for the handle, she could feel the grey wolf just inches from her, then she felt him right on her back. Teasing him with a circle of her hips that brushed against the hardness of his cock that she could feel even through the thickness of the heavy felt and fur costume.

"I don't… I don't know." Grabbing her hips with both hands, he pressed her harder to him, then felt her shudder slightly at what she's been missing since she's been out of town. "Ohh...what big hands you have."

"The better to hold you with," he said deeply in her ear. She made one more small circle of her hips, eliciting a groan from the big bad wolf. "Open the door." Michonne took a deep breath and turned the handle. Opening it slowly to reveal Hershel's room. She softly and disappointedly clicked the door closed. "You sure who you're looking for is behind one of these doors?"

"I'm starting to wonder. What do you suggest?"

"There's only two more doors down here. Should we try them? I'd hate for you to have to go back through the woods without finding out about your sick grandmother. You don't want to be caught out all alone do you? I hear there's a man aching to find out what you have under this dress."

"Then I guess we better check those other doors. I hate to think what might happen to if he gets his hands on me." Walking away she felt his eyes on her. She was impossibly wet, feeling the slickness with every step she took. Knowing that her big bad wolf was chasing her, only added to her excitement, plus the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under her dress. She could already feel his rough warm hands making their way all over her body, she was barely holding it together when she reached the next door. "I think she's in here."

"I really hope not." Having been to the Rhee's home countless times, he knew exactly what was behind the door. He ushered her in with a hand to her ass, closing the door with his foot. Michonne took a few steps inside while she untied the cape at her neck, it softly fell to the floor as the light switch clicked on, bathing them both in the soft light of the laundry room. She turned around to see the grey wolf's mask snatched off and thrown to the tiled floor with a thud. "Fuck, Michonne. I can't believe you wore that dress to this party."

"It was the only red dress I had Rick." She turned for him, letting him get an eye full of the way the fabric clung to her body. The imprint of her nipples showed she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. "It went with the cape. Do you like it?"

He unzipped and stepped out of the costume he wore, his grey t- shirt slightly damp from being under the unbreathable felt and fur. His jeans did little to hide how hard he was. "Get over here." It took her four shaky steps to he encased in his arms, but when she was Rick wasted no time familiarizing himself again with the curves and planes of her mouth. Letting both her top and bottom lip know how much he missed them. Not just kissing them, but watching them move as she talked about whatever popped into her mind. Michonne moaned as his heated kisses and hot tongue moved lower to her chin and neck, licking and biting.

"Ohh...I missed you," Michonne whispered.

"I can tell." He'd found the sweet spot between her thighs that dripped only for him. "Shit. I'd say show me how much, but I think you already have." He caressed her unhooded bud with his thumb, pressing slightly so he could hear her wanting moans.

"I didn't...I didn't get to say the rest."

"The rest of what?"

"What big...ahh...what big...oh god. What a big mouth you have." He lifted his head, placing his hands on her hips and backed her up to the washing machine. Before she could ask what he was doing, he had dropped to his knees, swinging her leg over his shoulder.

"What better to eat you with darlin'," he murmured against the clit he was about to suck into his mouth. His mouth watered as his tongue made slow work of her tantalizing pussy. Starting from her dripping center he licked his way up with a flat tongue until he touched that ultra sensitive bundle of nerves that he'd used his thumb to play with earlier. Closing his pretty pink lips around it, he sucked it into his mouth with a groan and steady hands to her waist to keep her from falling over.

"Oh shit." With a fistful of his hair, she pulled him closer moving her hips, too pent up to hold out for long. Taking her cues, he stopped sucking and stuck out his tongue, happy to allow her to ride his face until she was trembling, crying out his name as she peaked. "Rick." Her hips slowed down, but didn't stop until she was completely satisfied.

Fisting her dress with both hands and inhaling the scent of her sex, he stood up and turned her around. Placing her hands on the top of the glossy blue front loader washing machine, he lifted the bottom of her dress with one hand and unzipped his pants with the other. Wasting no time, he entered her. Hot and wet, his thick cock slid right in, hitting her deepest spot in no time.

"Fuck!" he immediately pulled out, ignoring the disappointed sigh she let out. He wasn't ready. He took a deep breath and looked down. The way his dick glistened, coated with her made him push back in giving her a hard stinging slap to her right ass cheek when he bottomed out. "Dammit, I can't believe you wore this dress." He wanted to tease her with long slow strokes, but that wasn't going to happen right now. He forgot just how hot her pussy felt around him, how tight she was, how good her ass looked when it jiggled as he slammed into her. "Shit." The tight grip he had on her hips got tighter when Michonne looked over her shoulder at him, challenging him. Encouraging him. Pleading with him to fuck her hard and deep. The soft slow love making could come later, but right now she wanted her husband to pound into her like there wasn't a house full of people down stairs and they weren't in someone else's laundry room. Keeping a hand on her waist, he brought the other one to her shoulder, using it as leverage so he could hammer into her. Her g spot his target and her tight walls led him right to it, with each and every stroke.

"Yes! Right there. Don't stop. Don't stop," Michonne begged. The thickness of his hard cock was driving her crazy, moving in and out of her as she squeezed around him, his girth filling her up in ways she didn't remember from the last time they were together.

"Michonne," Rick growled out, indicating he was close. She knew he was holding out for her, so she rocked her hips from side to side to create a new sensation in her already hyper sensitive pussy. Rick gave her ass another slap for the move before easing his hand down to pull the top of her dress under her breasts so he could play with her nipples to push her over the edge faster. "Come on Michonne. I can feel it. Just let it go." She closed her eyes and held her breath and was hit with an orgasm so strong, she was sure the whole house would have heard it if not for the fingers Rick had put in her mouth for her to suck on. She hummed her way through it with his middle and pointer finger in her mouth, while Rick continued to fuck her, chasing his own much needed release. "Ahh!" Pulling Michonne to him as much as he could, he stilled, cumming hard and deep inside her still pulsing pussy.

"Maybe I should go out of town more often," Michonne said after Rick pulled out of her, a stream of cum dripping down her leg. He pulled up his pants and grabbed a towel from the shelf above her to wipe off her leg.

"You better not. I like you right here with me." He pulled her close kissed her slow and squeezing her ass through the too short dress she hadn't righted yet. "I might not ever let you go out of town again."

"Seeing how you're the big bad wolf, I guess I better listen."

"That's a wise decision."

"Should we go back down stairs," Michonne took a step back, peering up at him. "Do you think people have noticed?"

"I don't care what they've noticed. Let's sneak out the back and go home." He reached out his hands to caress the smooth skin of her thighs and gave her that look that told her she better be ready when they got there.

"We'll have the house to ourselves for the night."

"Good. When we get there, take this off," he pointed to her dress. "But keep this on," he tugged the sides of her cape with his hands, bringing her flush against him so she could feel what she was in for.

"Oh my, what a big dick you have."

"All the better to fuck you with," Michonne swatted his arm.

"You are a bad, bad wolf."

"Big bad wolf," Rick said, placing emphasis on big. "Now let's go home so you can show me how well you ride Little Red."


	4. Chapter 4

This next chapter of Richonne Fairy Tales was written by **Evealacran**. She has put her own special spin on this classic Fairy Tale. We hope you enjoy this latest offering.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

**RAPUNZEL**

Once upon a time, in the tallest tower there ever was, lived the most beautiful young woman in all of the known lands – her name was Michonne. She had been locked away since she was twelve years old, in a tower that stood in a great forest. Her mother, Gothel, had kept her prisoner for many years, gaining entry to the tower by climbing her daughter's strong hair like a rope.

Each day Michonne viewed the vast, seemingly unending forest through her window. The tall trees stretched as far as the eye could see; green and strong, keeping those who dared to venture there away from the tower. The forest made her feel safe, but, at the same time, made her feel so very alone. Like every day, she sighed, longing for company, and wondering what lie beyond the woods.

Sometimes, she talked to the birds, but most of the time she chose to sing. On one morning, she let the wind carry her pretty voice across the wood. When she finished her song and opened her eyes, she saw him. Rapunzel thought she'd dreamed him at first he was like a shadow hidden behind a tree.

But she hadn't been dreaming, and on that particular day the man dared to come closer in order to have a better look at her. He had been entranced by her gorgeous voice, but it was nothing in comparison to the beauty of her face. He froze when she spotted him. He didn't know whether to wave or introduce himself with his words? So, he just smiled outright.

"Good morning," were his first words to her.

He could see the confusion in her face. She turned, looking behind herself, questioning if she should stay where she was, or retreat into the safety of her room. He was the first real person she'd ever met, and she found him incredibly handsome. His eyes were as blue as the ocean in her favorite picture books. His eyes seemed kind, and so she decided to stay.

"Good morning, " she replied in kind.

The stranger's smile grew wider. "I didn't intend to bother you. I just wanted to come closer, so I could hear you sing."

"Was it you who was here yesterday?" She asked, surprised by her own bluntness.

He nodded his head, his loosely curled mid-length hair moving with his motion "It was."

Walking through the forest, was one of Rick's favorite things to do. He loved the fresh air filling his lungs, cleansing them. The smell of the flowers hitting his nostrils first thing in the morning. He always took the same path. But the day before, he'd decided to change his usual trajectory. The second he heard the woman's beautiful voice, he knew he couldn't regret the change.

He followed it to a black tower which stood out among the trees. When he laid his eyes the singer, he momentarily forgot how to breath. He wasn't prepared for so much beauty, and couldn't take his eyes off of her. He was shaken to his core. Rick went straight home afterwards, totally convinced that she had been a dream. The kind of dream that no one wanted to wake up from. The next morning, proved to him that she wasn't, and that fact made him the happiest man alive.

"Why did you come back?"

"Because," he replied, his intense gaze roaming over her face. He was bewitched by the beauty in front of him. "You have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard."

Rapunzel could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. She bit her lip to suppress a smile and muttered a weak 'thank you', too overwhelmed to say more. He had wanted to tell her she had the most gorgeous face he'd ever seen. The most beautiful lips too, but he kept it all for himself so as not to not frighten her.

"I'm Rick, Rick Grimes," He said instead.

It was Rapunzel's turn to grin. His name was simple but she loved the way it sounded with his funny accent.

"Rapunzel, but I prefer the name Michonne."

He was about to reply, when he heard a sound behind him.

"You should go, " Michonne advised, afraid that her mother had come back sooner and would see her talking to a stranger.

Rick started backing up into the tree line, he didn't want to take his eyes off of her. He tried to memorize every enticing feature of her visage. Even though he knew he'd never forget it.

"Will you come back tomorrow?" She asked before she could stop herself. Rick was the first real person she'd ever met, and it felt good to talk to a human being outside of her mother. He was intriguing, and she liked the way he looked. She wanted to see him again, know more about his life. But she couldn't explain why.

He gifted her with a bright smile, showing his perfect white teeth.

"Do you want me to come back?"

Michonne bit her upper lip again and nodded her head. Rick found her too adorable for words.

"Do you want me to return?"

"Yes," she said, almost too eagerly, causing him to smile.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," was his reply

Rick kept his promise and came back. He was, once again greeted by Michonne's singing. Her sweet voice floated through the treetops, more beautiful than the serenading of the songbirds. She gifted him with a smile that almost knocked him off of his feet. She was ecstatic to see him again. Unbeknownst to him, she had thought about him all night, losing her sleep over his cerulean eyes.

She thought he wouldn't come back. They spoke amicably, with quick greetings and coy like the day before , their conversation was punctuated with a comfortable silence as they both got lost in each other's eyes. She learned more about him. He was the prince of the kingdom nearby, but he hated it, wanting more than anything to be like any other regular young man.

He was humble and funny, so much so that her her cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much.

She gave him short answers, not wanting to divulge too much information. Not wanting to fully explain her situation for fear of endangering his life. He did not push her, but listened graciously to what she had to say. Her laugh was like a sweet music to Rick's ears. He was happy to be the cause of it. He wanted to make her smile and laugh every second of every day. Unfortunately, much too soon, it was time for him to go, but not before promising to return again.

That night, when he returned to his kingdom, sleep refused to come to Rick. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her. Her hypnotizing lamb's eyes watching him, her gorgeous, plump lips. He wondered how they tasted, were they as soft as they looked? His digits ached to touch her glowing dark skin, if she could just let him approach her, he would have died a happy man. But for the moment, just the image of her made him smile before sleep finally engulfed him.

Michonne blew out a long breath. She'd tried to act normal all day, so as to not rouse her mother's suspicions. It was hard, mostly because she could barely pay attention to the woman for longer than a few seconds. Her head and heart only focused on Rick. Handsome Rick and his shiny, jet black hair. She pondered about its softness against her palms.

The thought of him made a foreign feeling rise up inside of her. Her heart thumped rapidly from the excitement of seeing him again. She could feel her stomach flutter. And a, strange, aching desire between her thighs. It wasn't unpleasant, on the contrary, she wanted to do something to relieve herself from it. But she had no idea how to explore her body in that way. She closed her legs, turned on her right side, Rick's pink lips filling her mind as she fell asleep.

#########

Rick grew worried when he didn't see Michonne at her window the next day. He was close to calling out to her when he saw long, tangled hair cascading out of her small window. His eyes widened, perplexed, as he stood there with no idea about what he was supposed to do.

"Michonne?" He called, scratching his head.

"Climb the hair!" She shouted, amused by his understandable confusion.

After a few second he finally understood, he had noticed that the tower had no ladder. He figured scaling the high walls by means of a rope would be the way to access it. It surprised him that her lovely hair could be used as rope.

He'd never seen hair like hers before. It cascaded down the side of the tower, long and sturdy. Elaborate in its style. Endless and lovely. She tucked her hair behind her, draping it outside of the window. He took hold of it, steady at first, and then began to climb. Once Rick reached her room, he stepped inside and let go of her tresses.

They eyed one another a moment before she shyly looked away. She could hear her heart beat erratically in her chest - so hard that she thought it might flutter away. Her palms were sweating and her stomach was tighter, she was more nervous now that she was face-to-face with him. She couldn't believe that he was in her room.

Her eyes wandered everywhere but to him while his were locked on her. She felt self conscious, she'd searched for hours in her her closet, looking for her prettiest dress in anticipation of his visit. She settled for a mid length red one and held out hope that he would like it. Now, as she stood before him, she didn't know what to do with herself, so she wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and lifted her head. Rick hadn't moved at all, he was still glued to his place near the window. He'd forgotten how to function, his body numbed in her presence. Words could never do justice to her, he didn't know it was possible for her to be more beautiful but she was.

"Good morning," she said, shaking a little.

Her voice broke him from his reverie. " Good morning."

"Your hair–" he started, still baffled by its length and texture.

"They are very long, aren't they?"

"How is… I mean how?" He stuttered.

Michonne giggled, feeling less nervous.

" It's quite magical."

Rick tilted his head, making her laugh. He just smiled and nodded his head, he had no doubt about it. He'd heard stories about a witch living in the forest with her daughter. His eyes left Michonne, finally paying attention to his surroundings. Michonne's room wasn't big like the one he was used to. But it was cozy - pretty and simple like her.

"Oh, God, you look amazing. I love your dress."

At his words she beamed with happiness. "You do?"

Rick grinned. " I do. You are so beautiful "

She could feel the butterflies rising in her belly again. They stared at each other for a moment, both overwhelmed by the growing tension between them.

"Are you hungry?" She asked. But before they could register her words, she took his hand in hers and lead him to the kitchen. She tried not to acknowledge the electricity coursing into her. He felt it too. Her hand was so soft and delicate. They were small compared to his, yet fit perfectly.

"I baked some cookies. " She said, pointing to a closed box. She opened it and lifted it to his face, very proud of her handiwork.

Rick smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. The smell made him salivate . She invited him to take a seat at the small, wooden table.

"That's very nice of you. I love cookies."

"Really? Me too."

Rick took a bite, moaning out loud. They tasted incredible.

"What did you put in these?" He inquired taking another bite, watched by a cheerful Michonne.

" Guess!"

"Hmm, cinnamon? "

Michonne clapped her hands together, truly impressed. " Yes, cinnamon just makes everything better. "

"So you're the cinnamon of my days. "

She blushed, grateful for her dark complexion hiding it. She cleared her throat, trying to gather herself.

"Your parents, they just let you go wherever you want without saying anything?" She envied Rick and his freedom. It was something she'd never tasted in her life, she wanted a life outside of her tower's walls, she felt like she was suffocating.

"They do," He replied. He could see a sadness in her eyes, his heart ached for her. "Have you ever left this place?""

She shook and bowed her head, "Never. My mother goes out everyday for work from the dawn until the sun sets. I'm her prisoner so I have to stay here, lonely and bored. My only distractions are my singing and the books she always brings me. But I just want to see the world. What does it look like Rick, the outside world?"

He told her everything he could think of. How the people were many, how the lands were vast. How there was so much to see and do . How bright the sun could shine, how cold the snow felt against the skin. How there were countless experiences to be had. She loved how his dashing face lit up when he talked about his excursions with his horse.

"I will take you with me one day," he said, putting his hand on hers.

She felt a warmth wash over her as her heart skipped a beat. She gave his hand a squeeze and then said, "I would like that very much."

After Rick ate all of the delicious cookies, they left the kitchen for the comfort of her bedroom. They were so close that Michonne's minty breath tickled Rick's face. His proximity inflamed her body, yet she still wanted him to come closer. He wanted to be closer to her. He was enraptured by her, excited by the feelings she inspired in him. Their attraction to one another was so strong and palpable.

"You are so beautiful, Michonne."

His hands caressed her cheeks while his thumb stroked her lips, his fingers craved more of her. Michonne closed her eyes, relishing in his touch. She could feel the same throbbing desire between her legs, but this time it was stronger. She needed him, even if she had no idea how. Her body was screaming for more from him.

He leaned towards her and inhaled her fruity perfume. His own desire coursed through his body and settled down below. She smelled as good as he imagined she would. He pressed his forehead against hers, her breathing almost frantic, his hands still cupping her face.

"May I kiss you, Michonne?"

After nodding her head, she felt his nose on hers, his lips brushing against her lips. Michonne froze from both fear and excitement. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. So she followed his lead. She could feel every centimeter of her body awakening when he placed a gentle peck on her warm lips. She was living an out of body experience, she was seated on her bed, but she felt her body floating. Somewhere far away from here. She wanted him to do it again, but he pulled away slightly,watching her. She opened her eyes, seeing that his had become a darker shade of blue.

"Do it again, please," She begged.

He took hold of her head again, pulling her into a fiery, passionate kiss. She tasted so good, felt so good in his arms. His hands worked their way around her body, feeling each crevasse curve along her perfect physique. They found their way under her pretty dress. Her hands ventured over his slick hair, tugging gently at the soft strands. After a while they pulled apart and both of them opening their eyes. They stared at one another, looking deep into each other's eyes. Rick's full of wonder and love and Michonne's full of curiosity and passion.

He kissed her again, and she hardly had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and, at her grant of access, delved inside her mouth. Rick smiled internally when he felt her trying to kiss him back, with deft slides of her tongue. He leaned in and softly trailed kisses up and down Michonne's neck. She let out little whimpers of anticipation.

A moan escaped Michonne's mouth when she felt his growing bulge brushing against her thigh. She put her hand in front of her mouth, bashfully surprised. She loved the sensation of his lips kissing her body, but she still closed her legs, trying to tame her growing need. He stopped his ministrations.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head, her throat dry. "No. But I don't know what to do Rick. I've never…"

"It's okay Michonne. Do we have much time before your mother visits?"

"We do," she answered.

"Let's try something alright?"

She took a deep breath, "Alright."

"Have you ever touched yourself?"

Michonne could feel her body grow warmer and her panties getting wet, sticking against her moist pussy.

"No, I don't know how to."

"Do you want me to show you?"

She nodded her head.

"Okay. I need you to take off your panties."

Michonne removed her panties with shaking hands. Her stomach knotted up, she dreaded what was about to happen, but at the same time that she felt ridiculously excited. Her skin was dotted with goosebumps. She put the garment at her side, waiting for his next move. His hands descended to her covered breasts.

"Can I touch you here?"

Michonne's head started to swim. "Yes," she managed to reply.

Rick cupped her perky breasts in his calloused hands, her breath hitched at the foreign sensation, while little whimpers left Rick's mouth. He trailed more kisses against her warm neck and chest.

"Thank you. You are so perfect," He said. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."

She felt safe with him, comfortable enough to explore and discover the most secretive part of her body.

"No, I want you to continue. " She replied.

"Good. Now, open your legs Michonne."

Michonne did as she was told. Rick smiled reassuringly at her, his tone deeper.

"I'm going to take your hand and put it between your legs."

He locked his fingers with hers and moved them gasped, when he started slowly rubbing her hand against her sensitive lips. He put down all of her fingers, except her index and major, he used them to caress her bundle of nerves which sent shivers through her. He watched as pleasure took over her features. She was panting, her folds getting more and more wet.

"Do you like it?" He whispered in her ear.

She nodded, her moans growing louder when he slid her fingers inside of her. She never knew it was possible to feel so much pleasure. Rick increased the rhythm, he fingered her faster, feeling his dick harden in his slacks. She felt light-headed. The foreign sensation of being penetrated caused her body to grow hot. She melted under his touch. His fingers, guiding hers, worked her into a sensual frenzy. It was almost too much to bear. Over and over directed her digits in and out of her core. When she felt too overcome by pleasure, he removed her fingers and replaced them with his.

"I need you to come from me, Michonne. Can you do that?"

She was whimpering, clutching to her cover with her other hand. Her pussy was clenching and unclenching around her fingers. She surprised herself with the scream she let out, her powerful first orgasm washing over her. She was out of breath, her sheets soaked, the smell of her arousal enveloping her room. Michonne turned her head to face Rick, he simpered at her and kissed her gently.

"Later tonight, when you think of me, you should touch yourself like this again," he said.

Michonne couldn't move, even if she tried. Her legs were still shaking from her orgasm. She felt giddy and happy.

"Where would you take me first? " she asked, her breathing returning to normal.

"Pardon me?" he replied.

She turned her head to face him, and he did the same, basking in her post orgasm glow.

"Earlier, you said you'll take me with you," she reminded, trying to not let his hands caressing her cheeks distract her. Where would be the first place?"

Rick smiled when he recalled what he had said.

"There is a creek, near my kingdom. The water is so blue that you could think there is no water. It's hidden by so many flowers that if you didn't know it was there, you'd miss it. I used to go there with my father and little brother. "

"You have a little brother? " she inquired as she imagined a tiny version of Rick running near the creek.

"Yes," he chuckled, "He's annoying sometimes. But I couldn't ask for a better brother."

"What's your parents' names?" she asked, suddenly feeling quite inquisitive and curious.

"Herschel and Deanna," he answered.

Michonne bobbed her head. The loving look in Rick's eyes when he mentioned them must have meant they were good parents to him. She craved for the same relationship with her own mother.

"And you?" he asked. "You only have your mother?"

Michonne's eyes fell on her hands. Rick regretted his question the second it left his mouth.

"I'm sorry Michonne," he said sitting up. "You don't need to answer that if you don't want to."

She mirrored him, and took a seat besides him.

"It's okay. I know nothing about my father. Each time I try to ask my mother, she becomes mad at me and screams that my father was a worthless man who left. She's so mean. I know she doesn't love me, she's just interested in my hair."

Rick's heart sank, he felt bad for Michonne. She was an amazing woman who deserved the world and beyond.

"She's a bad person, Rick. I know she is, sometimes I hear her talk with her clients. And it is always about hurting someone. I hate being here."

As much as she tried, Michonne couldn't hold the waves of tears falling on her cheeks. Rick drew her body to his, and held her tightly while she was drenching his white shirt. He couldn't care less, he waited for her sobs to calm down a little to talk.

"I'm sorry for you, Michonne. It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Michonne bobbed her head. She could feel the sincerity in his words and believed him. He already made her life better in the small while that she had known him. She didn't want to spoil their precious and short time together by talking about her mother. So she decided to swiftly change the subject.

"I enjoyed what you did, earlier," she said while she blushed.

Talking about it made it so real. It actually happened, Rick gave her her first orgasm. Her feelings for him expanded even more after. She couldn't comprehend what was going on between them, this strong and powerful pull she felt with him. How she could be so attached to someone she just met?

Rick smiled at her, "I'm glad you did. You only deserve good things Michonne, and I would happily give them to you."

"Thank you, Rick," she cleared her throat, preparing herself to ask her next question, embarrassed. " What we did, what was it?"

"It's called masturbation. People can do it alone, or with someone else before having sex."

All of this was very new to Michonne, and while she felt desire and arousal, she still wasn't quite sure what was happening since she had no one to explain such things to her.

"Sex?" she asked with confusion.

"It's when someone's lower half meet someone else lower half.

"Our lower halves ? " she asked " You mean where you touched me, and what I felt between your thighs ? "

Rick nodded his head, he could feel himself get aroused, images of his dick buried deep into Michonne's pussy invading his mind. Michonne eyed his arousal growing in his pants. Rick followed her eyes and put his hand on it. He tried to think of something to get rid of his erection. But Michonne's curious eyes on it didn't help.

"I'll show you one day," he promised. He put a kiss on her forehead, his lips descending to her lips, where he placed several kisses. Michonne smiled at him when they pulled apart.

"I want to stay here with you," he admitted. "But I have to go soon . Will you be okay until I return?"

Michonne sighed, she could feel the tears threaten to fall again.

"I will be okay," she said.

"Good," said Rick as he kissed her forehead.

"You're really coming back, right?"

"Of course," he said. "I'll be back for you."

They shared a last passionate kiss before he left. Later that same night, as he asked her to, she quietly pleasured herself just like he taught her. She brought herself to orgasm while envisioning Rick handsome face and skillful fingers.

##########

Prince Rick returned to see Michonne in her tower every day until the moon grew large and then waned once again. He looked forward to see her, the last month she became his favorite person, Rick felt his feelings for Michonne growing stronger with each passing moment. He would bring her books, or chocolates she enjoyed very much. He wanted the time with her to never end, and when he was away from her he thought like he was slowly dying.

A look at her smile, made him forget the burden of the responsibilities he had as the heir. She was a breath of fresh air, he could be real with her. He asked his father about these overwhelming thoughts and cravings. Herschel explained to his son that it sounded like love, that it was how he felt about Rick's mother, how he knew she would one day be his queen.

Just after dawn, Rick made his way back to the tower on horseback. He stopped the animal when the reached Michonne's bedroom window.

"Michonne," he shouted.

A few seconds later, Michonne popped her head out of her window. She grinned from ear to ear when she saw her beau on his beautiful horse, they were both looking handsome.

"Is that your horse?" she asked.

"Yes," Rick replied proudly. He loved his horse, they grew up together and shared a lot of good memories.

"He's gorgeous, and so big!" It was the first time Michonne laid her eyes on a horse. She saw plenty of them in the books her mother brought her. Rick smiled and caressed his horse head. During the last days Rick visited her, he never took his horse. Always preferring his foot to carry him to his destination.

"Why did you bring him today? " she asked, her eyes narrowed at him.

He smiled widely, a glint of excitement in his blue eyes.

"I want to take you somewhere. "

His words piqued her curiosity, "Where Rick?"

"Fancy coming with me to dip your toes in the water at the creek?"

Excitement poured out her like sunshine through fine white linen; she glowed from the inside out. She felt like every fiber of her being was vibrating with anticipation as her eyes widened. Until she thought about her mother, making her enthusiasm deflate like a soufflé. She sighed, wondering when her hold on her would ever stop. Rick could sense something was wrong.

"If we go now," he started, knowing her mother was the reason behind her change of attitude. "We'll return before noon. Long before your mother comes back."

Michonne thought about all the pros and cons of this idea. On one hand, she knew her mother would be beyond upset with her if she didn't make it in time. But on the other hand, and the strongest, she was tired of being locked up for as long as she could remember. She deserved to see more than the walls of the tower. To breathe some fresh air, feel the grass under her feet. He could see the wheels turning in her head. He was mad at himself for making her uncomfortable when she didn't reply for what seemed like an hour.

"I'm sorry Michonne, I shouldn't have–"

Michonne smiled and said, " I want to come with you."

She would follow him to the end of the world. Michonne gestured for him to wait for her, and rush towards her pendery, where she retrieved a long trail of tied tissue falls. She threw it above the window, Rick gazed at the falling trail, curiously. It was as long as her hair. He lifted his head to see Michonne at the head of it, she was inhaling and exhaling deeply. Every part of her went on pause while her doubts caught up. She was really about to get out of her prison. What if her mother– She shook her head to get rid of the doubts, she needed to focus on remembering how to breathe, and how to descend her homemade ladder.

Rick climbed off his horse, watching Michonne attentively. He tried to position himself under her, to catch her if it was necessary. But she did a fine job by going down by herself. Michonne didn't know if she should cry, or laugh. She was overcome by so many emotions, that she just stay there eying her surrounding, she never noticed how high the tower was.

Everything seemed more brighter out under the radiant sun. Its warm light caressed her skin. It felt as if it was wrapping her in a safe embrace. The wind whipped around her. It felt like light touches against her face. The aroma of wood and foliage intermingled with grass and blooming flowers. Everything was exciting her senses all at once, it was thrilling. Almost as thrilling as the feelings of Rick's strong arms as they hold of her body.

Rick climbed off his horse to rush towards her and wrap her body in a tight hug. They shared a kiss, before Michonne put the sheet ladder in her little bag. Rick took her hand,walking them to his horse, Michonne was a little bit afraid to be so close of it. She approached cautiously the horse, Rick's hand on hers while he was guiding hers to touch it, standing behind her his breath warm against her ears. She let him her stroke the horse's soft mane. The horse was majestically beautiful, it was dark brown and so shiny. She smile widely, her hands roaming over his slender limbed body. Feeling her more at ease, Rick suggested her to hug it arched neck, which she did, the horse didn't move, it looked like he appreciated the hug as much as she did. She thanked Rick and kissed him again.

Rick climbed first, and then helped her take a seat on the saddle behind him.

"I'm curious," he said, still at the same spot. "What's the thing in your bag ? "

"I started tying up every tissues I had, since I was 11. I wanted to do my own ladder as long as my hair, to leave the tower one day. "

And today was finally the day, and what beautiful day it smiled at her and turned his attention back to his horse, instructing it to start moving.

"Hold me tight, alright ? "

She nodded her head against his back, holding him as tight as she could. She felt more at home in his embrace than she ever felt in her tower. After riding for less than an hour, they arrived at the creek. Michonne stared at it in awe, as her brain opened to the beauty in front of her. She realised that before she met Rick, she lived a half-life, greyed and without the warmth each human is born with.

Happiness flowed through Rick who was watching Michonne, he was in the company of his favorite person in his favorite place. She looked gorgeous, her eyes roving on each detail of the place. Her eyes sparkling with a deep joy as she enjoyed the peace and quiet the creek brought her.

"Come," he called for her, walking towards the water. He had already lift the end of his leather pants. Ready to drop his naked toes into it.

The water was so clear, Michonne approached cautiously to it, Rick winced when his toes touched the cold water. But he still smiled reassuringly at her, she was a little bit apprehensive.

"Is it cold? "

"Yeah, " Rick replied "But it's worth it. Come on join me. "

Michonne put her finger on it and grimaced, "I'm going to get sick if I do!"

Rick chuckled, "And? At least we will be a couple of sick people who had a lot of fun."

She crossed her arms on her chest, as she watched Rick taking water to refresh his sweaty curls. The sun was merciless, even in the morning. Michonne uncrossed her arms, refusing to let fear have the best of her. She spent years away of the real world, she couldn't let her mind being locked by doubts. So she put her bag on the floor, got rid of her flat red shoes, she tossed her long braid behind. With a big, deep, breath she dripped one feet in the water. But retired it quickly, screaming at the coldness. She could hear Rick trying to hold his laughter.

"Don't mock me. " she warned playfully, causing Rick's body to shake with laughter.

"I'm sorry sweetheart it just–"

A splash of water on his face cutted his sentence. He opened his eyes to see a guilty Michonne, her arms against her chest, sporting a defiant smile. But her face morphed from proud to worried, when she saw Rick advancing towards her like a predator to his prey.

"No, Rick. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. "

But before she could explain herself, Rick covered her body with the transparent liquid. She gasped from surprise. Her breath heavy as she entered the water, determined to retaliate. After a few minutes of throwing water at each other, Rick and Michonne, were laughing out of breath. Not a care in the world that they were both beyond wet.

"I hope you're happy, look at us Rick!"

Rick's forehead creased, "Excuse me? Aren't you the culprit who started all of this?"

"I don't think so " she giggled. Happiness looked good on her, he pondered.

She presented her back to him, ready to leave the water, but he took hold of her waist and start tickling her.

"I'll stop," he said in her ear, while she was roaring with laughter, "If you recognize that it was your fault, Michonne."

"Okay, okay. It…. Was mine!" Michonne managed to say through her laughter.

He smiled against her ear, stopping his tickles, but his hand still on her waist caressing up and down her watery skin under her pink dress. He placed gentle kisses on her neck, tossing her long braid on the other side. Michonne let out little moans, she could feel the tension growing between them as his desire for her grew against her derriere. His lips warmed her body with each kiss.

Her moans were louder when he started sucking and licking her skin. Michonne took hold of his hands, and placed them on her breasts, causing Rick's breath to hitch in his throat. His heartbeat skipped a bit when he felt their softness against his palm. His dick quivered in his leather pants, while his hands rubbed her breasts. Michonne closed her eyes and let all of the new sensations wash over, her own arousal throbbing between her thighs.

The rest of the world became an unimportant blur that was banished into the far recesses of his mind. The only thing that mattered was touching her more, kissing her skin, the warmth of her breasts. Rick stopped his ministration. He was conjuring all his willpower to not explode right now, the movement of her rounded backside against his groin, was too much to bear.

"Follow me, " he whispered in her ear.

She nodded her head, trying to gather her thoughts and place one foot after another, too light headed. When they reached a wooden hut, Rick let go of her hand to search for the key hidden under leaves. They stepped inside after he unlocked the door. Her eyes took in the beauty of the simple hut. There was a mattress on the floor, a little table with books on it.

"It's my hut, " Rick explained, leaned against the closed door. "I mean it's the one I built with my father and brother."

"Do you come here often?" she asked, her eyes scrutinized the books on his shelves.

"Yes, when I'm not with you. I love coming here. I'm sorry I know it's a little bit small. "

Michonne shook her head, "It's perfect."

Rick smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. Michonne faced him, her wet dress clinging against her chest, slightly revealing the skin underneath. Michonne wasn't the bashful woman he met a month ago. Rick's love and the discovery of a life outside her tower empowered her with confidence.

His intense gaze was following every one of her movements, he could see her chest rising and falling hastily. Emboldened, she removed the straps of her dress, the garment slipping from her body.

The sight of her nakedness, bathed in the rays of the sunshine, body set his cock to hard steel. His breathing labored, he closed the distance between them, and paused waiting for Michonne's approval to touch her holy body. She smiled and nodded, the anticipation of his touch sent a tightening pulse to her pussy. Rick pressed his lips on her warm chest, kissing the skin just above her breasts. She took in a few deep breaths, her eyes closed. He wrapped her tiny body into his arms, before sucking each of her beautiful mounds greedily into his mouth, causing a light of fire in her belly. And lower. Michonne was panting, she dug her nails into his forearms by fear to fall. Rick let go of her stiff nipples with a pop sound, and kissed his way to her ears before whispering :

"I want you to stay with me. "

"What?" she inquired, her breathing ragged. While Rick's hands wandered lower down her back and stopped at her rounded backside.

"Stay with me, Michonne. Don't go back to your tower. I want you to be my wife, if that's something you want too. " Rick breathed out, his voice gruff and throaty, his digits still caressing her ass.

Michonne threw her head backwards to look at Rick, her eyes widened as tears started shimmering in them. _Did he really say what he said ? _He truly wanted her. All of her life, she read about people falling in love, and she thought she would never know what it would feel like to be the apple of someone's eye. Rick awaited, holding his breath, maybe it was a mistake, he should have keep his mouth shut, instead of frightening her with his silly idea. But Michonne's wide smile and joyful tears dissipated his doubts.

"Yes, Rick. I want that too."

He scooped a laughing Michonne in his arms, and kissed away her tears on her cheek, before pressing his lips on her soft mouth. She eagerly opened her mouth, Rick sucked on her tongue inside, literally stealing her breath away. He had never wanted something as much as he did with Michonne. She represented everything good in his life.

"I love you, Michonne," he declared out of breath

"I love you too Rick. "

They both felt overcome with desire and excitement. These feelings and their proximity, urging them to want to explore one another's bodies. Michonne slipped her hand in his leather pants, trying to grab his erect dick.

"You… God, Michonne, you don't have to do that. "

"I want you, Rick. " she replied her hand caressing the dark public hair.

A scarlet hue overtook Rick, coloring down his neck and into his white shirt. His pulse was throbbing, his palms sweating, and he thought his heart was about to crash. He squeezed Michonne's ass and gently put her on the mattress. He paused, tilting his head on the side.

And just with his lustful gaze, he made her sex pulsate, creating a storm of lust and need coursing through her veins. Michonne thought he was _so_ beautiful.

Rick leaned over her body and captured her lips again. Every kiss had a raw intensity - breathing fast, heart rates faster, Rick's hands found her perky, high breasts again, he twirled his fingers around her nipple. They were perfect. Michonne's whimpers and moans filled the silent room. She was out of breath, the was pleasure too intense.

Then, all at once, he stopped his ministrations on them and kissed his way from her breasts to her stomach. Then he was licking, watching for her reactions, feeling how her body writhed. Goosebumps from his kisses made a trail on her burning skin. He awakened every nerve in her body.

Rick dipped his head lower, eyed curiously by Michonne.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I want to kiss you there. May I?"

She cocked her head on the side, confusion marring her features. She nodded her head, curiosity getting the best of her, she wanted to know what other pleasures Rick could open her up to, so she trusted him.

"I need you to lay down and relax."

Suddenly, she felt Rick's mouth kissing her lower lips softly. The feeling was foreign, and caused her to squirm a bit and let out a little squeak. The pleasure she felt was more intense than the day before, it even frightened her at first. But when Rick dug his tongue inside of her moist folds, she almost cried. Spurred on by her reaction, he did it again. Alternating between kissing her lips, licking her pussy, and sucking at her clitoris.

Michonne thought that her soul was about to leave her body, she wanted to come, but at the same time she wanted the moment to last forever. Rick moaned, he had been longing to taste her since he'd smelled her nectar lingering in his digits. Her hips bucked into him, as his tongue swirled around her middle, dipping in and out of her opening with force.

He reached up with a hand to tweaked and pulled at her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Michonne felt ripples of pleasure throughout her entire body. It was as if her body has a mind of its own, she grinded her pelvis against his lips and nose, creating a friction and rhythm all her own.

Her toes began to curl as her heart beat rapidly against her chest. She let her head fall back, pulling on the quilt. Rick wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hard. He flicked his tongue out in rapid bursts, thudding against her sensitive bud to push her close to climax. And with one last thrust of his tongue inside of her, she arched her body as her pussy throbbed.

Her arousal flooding Rick's mouth, he didn't waste any drop as he licked at it like a thirsty man. Michonne was whimpering, completely at a loss of words. She covered her face with her hands, feeling a little ashamed of the mess she'd made, but Rick took her hands in gently his and pulled them away. He smiled tenderly down at her, wondering how he'd gotten lucky enough to find her. He stood up, getting rid of his garments, and laid naked by her side. She trailed her hand on his strong, lean body while eying curiously his thick, veiny cock and wondering how all of this was supposed to get into her smaller hole.

"We don't have to do it." he said, as if he heard her silent question. He placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

She captured his lips, with a sloppy kiss. The hunger in her kiss had Rick desperate for her.

"Show me how to touch you," she asked, breathing into his mouth.

Rick took hold of her hand, asking her to open it and hold his stiff cock. He let out a strangled gasp, when he felt the heat of her palm wrapping tightly around his cock. He had to conjure all of his willpower to not blow his load right away.

"_God_, Michonne. "

She was surprised to enjoy the feeling of his hard cock in her tiny hand. He guided her hand up and down his shaft, before unwrapping her digits from it. He put himself between her legs, his impossible hardness at mere inches of her pink dripping sex.

"Tell me, if you want to stop, " he requested, looking in her eyes, she was nervous. "It might be uncomfortable at first. I'm sorry. "

"I'm ready, Rick. Do it. "

Rick pushed slowly forward into her, she gasped at the foreign intrusion, she was beyond tight. He let out a strangled moan.

"You're okay?" he asked, worry by the grimace in her face as she felt a little discomfort. She nodded her head, her eyes closed.

Rick thrust more of his sex through her petals, he could feel her tense again. The heat of her made him unsteady with raging lust, he paused letting her pussy accustomed to his length. And started moving into her, steady and slowly. Michonne's wince of pain quickly subsided for ones of pleasure. He wrapped her legs around his waist, pummeling deeper inside her. Michonne could feel all of him, it was painfully good, the sensation different from when he used his fingers or his mouth. It was stronger, consuming all of her.

Rick was moaning in her ear, her tight walls were suffocating his dick, and he knew he couldn't last longer. He descended his thumb to her clit, and massaged it causing her voice to rose in a passionate song of cries and pleas. The most beautiful song to his ears. After a few more thrusts his dick jerked his white, sticky semen inside of her swollen pussy. They were only satisfied pants and heavy breaths in each other arms. Rick pressed his forehead against hers, her breath tickling his hot, sweaty face. He withdraw his limp dick from her and pull her body into his arms, both spent and trying to calm their shallow breaths.

"I enjoyed it, " Michonne said before he could speak. "It was weird at first, but I really enjoyed it. I love you."

Rick smiled, "Thank you. I love you too. "

She grinned laying her head against his hairy chest. Anxious but excited for this new journey she was about to take with Rick, away from everything she knew. She wasn't saddened by the thought of leaving her mother, because she never loved her like Rick did. He saw in her what Gothel refused to see: A blooming flower who just needed love and freedom to grow. So she was ready to follow him anywhere. And she did.

Completely lovestruck, they made their way through marriage, travels, four beautiful children, and their very own happily ever after.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 of our Richonne Fairy Tale series is brought to you by **Afilmmefatale**. She is back to share another unique spin on a classic tale.

Please be sure to check out out her works on her FF page.

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

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**Rumpelstilskin**

"Tomorrow? But there's no way I can have the money by then." Michonne bit her lower lip. The last thing she wanted was to break out in tears over the phone.

"I really hate to put you in this position, Michonne. I admire your business and want to help you out in any way I can, but you're three months behind on the rent. And I can't stay on top of my wife's hospital bills without this income." Hershel was genuinely apologetic and she felt a twinge of guilt at having forced him into this situation.

It wasn't his fault that she hadn't had steady business in over a month. "How's she doing?"

"Her spirits are high, which is more than we could ask for." He sounded tired but hopeful.

Mrs. Greene had been in and out of the hospital since Michonne signed her lease almost a year ago. "I'll keep her in my prayers." Prayers were about all she had to offer at this point.

Michonne's savings account was down to a few hundred dollars. She'd spent the majority on rent and renovations on her shop, The Dog's Bow Wow. The tens of thousands of dollars she'd saved over her previous career as a corporate lawyer had vanished in a matter of months. And now she would lose the shop she'd poured the last of her blood, sweat, and tears into.

"I can give you until midnight tomorrow, but after that…"

"I won't let you down, Hershel. I'll figure something out."

She wished him a good night, disconnecting the call in resignation. Where would she get thousands of dollars in less than thirty hours?

Asking her mother for money wasn't an option. The judge had made it crystal clear what she'd thought of Michonne's "impulsive" actions, though she'd known her daughter's plans from the very beginning. Leaving a lucrative career in law to open a dog grooming spa had led her mother to suspect Michonne was suffering from a mental breakdown. She'd even enlisted a close family friend - a psychiatrist - to stage an intervention of sorts with her immediate family. In defense of her decision, Michonne had boasted she'd be in the black within a year and now here she was, almost a year later, on the verge of losing it all.

She looked around the small shop for anything she might be able to sell. Her business was a modest storefront operation in an upscale neighborhood, renovated to give it a modern and sleek feel. The stainless steel washing tubs against the walls and two electric-powered grooming tables occupied the majority of the space. Getting a good price for the cumbersome equipment on such short notice would be nearly impossible. The titanium shears she'd invested in - all in different sizes, with their own unique purpose - might get her close to the funds she needed, but she couldn't bring herself to part with them. She'd purchased the first pair on the day she'd decided she would go into business for herself. She collected the others over time, each purchase bringing her a step closer to realizing her dream. The utter lack of success, however, had come as a sobering realization.

Her business plan had been sound - or so she'd thought. She'd expected to tap into the dog show circuit and secure regular appointments with breeders who were willing to pay higher prices for haircuts tailored specifically to their dogs. She'd apprenticed with one of the best groomers in the country, developing a new style that had even impressed her teacher. She moved onto her new career with such high hopes.

But then the customers never came. The first couple of months, she had a steady stream of appointments. But that had been because of the heavy marketing she'd invested in. She'd hoped word-of-mouth would keep the momentum going, but in the end, her client base dwindled. She only had a handful of clients coming once a month, and that wasn't enough to even cover the rent on the shop. And now her reckoning had arrived.

She flipped the door sign from _Open_ to _Closed_ and shut off the lights. There was no need to clean, as it had been another drearily uneventful day with no appointments or walk-ins. The meticulously clean and utterly empty shop made her feel anything but hopeful. She grabbed her things and headed out.

As she locked the front door, a black streak darted across her feet. "Oh!" Michonne jumped back.

"Meow," she heard from directly behind her. She spun around to find a black cat with the clearest blue eyes staring back up at her. He sat on his haunches with an elegance unique to cats and began cleaning his left paw with his little pink tongue.

"If you were trying to give me bad luck," she said, squatting down, "it's too late. I'm already cursed." She reached out to pet the cat and it stepped forward, rubbing its jaw against her hand.

Michonne's love for animals naturally extended to cats. The enigmatic, self-grooming creatures were so different from the fun-loving dogs she'd grown up with. Cat videos were her go-to for de-stressing after a rough day.

The cat placed its front paws on her knee and she couldn't help but pull it into her lap. It purred in triumph as she gave it a good petting. Though it lacked a collar or ID tags, its fur was clean and soft, unlike the stray cats that roamed her neighborhood. It snuggled closer, licking her hand with its sandpaper tongue.

"You're a sweetheart, aren't you?" It looked up at her with those hypnotic eyes again. She'd never seen such clear blue eyes in a cat, especially one with a jet black coat. "Ok, that's all I've got for tonight." The cat meowed in protest as she set it back down on the ground, giving it one last stroke before walking over to her car.

Some invisible force tugged at her, forcing her to look back. It sat there staring at her. It looked so alone in the light of the street lamps, its eyes shining with the intensity of moonlight. The meow it gave this time was sad and demanding, bordering on a whine.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one in need of rescuing.

######

Back at her condo, the cat played with a wide strip of red ribbon, pouncing and biting at the silky strip. She'd saved it from one of the gifts she'd received at her going-away party. The memory of her last day at the law firm was bittersweet. Everyone had wished her well and had such high hopes for her. Now, she'd have to suffer the humiliation of begging her boss to take her back.

Michonne dumped a can of tuna into a bowl with blue and orange fish painted on the white ceramic. She'd made in it in a high school pottery class and it had somehow survived all through college and her adulthood. It seemed appropriate for a cat. The impish creature was her guest after all.

She grabbed her own dinner for the night - a small pot of spaghetti with homemade marinara sauce - and headed into the living room. She found the cat taking a break from its play, lounging in her usual spot on the sofa. Michonne placed the bowl of tuna on the floor next to the couch.

"Dinner time, kitty." She still had no clue if it was male or female. How did you tell with a cat? Did it even matter? The cat looked at the food and then back at her, its blue eyes narrowed in offense.

"Fine, don't eat it," she huffed, not in the mood to negotiate with a cat. "That's my seat." She nudged it out of her spot, receiving an angry meow in return. She plopped down, sinking into the spot that naturally conformed to the contours of her body and covered her legs with a throw. She was home, safe from the disappointments of the outside world.

The cat climbed into her lap, turning in a tight circle before settling down in a little ball. It purred with warm contentment.

She shook her head and clicked on the TV. Selecting a Korean drama to watch, she dug into her dinner, awkwardly balancing the pot above the cat's head. She needed to laugh, cry, scream - anything to dislodge this deep-seated dread.

An entire bottle of wine later, Michonne sobbed as the female lead of the drama broke up with her true love. Life was so unfair. She was reminded of her own problems. If she'd only had the capital or the connections, everything might've turned out differently.

_Woulda, shoulda, coulda_. Her mother's authoritative voice rang in her mind. Judge Harris was a winner. She repelled failure with the force of a two-ton magnet. The only imperfect thing in her life was the daughter who'd quit her job in the prime of her career to chase a fleeting dream.

The frustration, anxiety, and genuine fear that she'd tucked away in the name of progress, came bubbling to the surface. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, sniffling through the deluge of emotion.

A sudden roughness against her hand startled her. The cat was licking away the tears from her hand. The gentle action only made her tears flow stronger. In place of the woman she'd once been - tough, formidable, confident - was a sopping mess, pitied by a rescue cat.

Hope was no longer in her vocabulary. She'd lose the shop and her childhood dream along with it. "I wish I could just start over." Her heart squeezed at the frustration and hopelessness of it all.

The cat leaped from her lap. And then like something out of a fantasy movie, the black cat suddenly morphed into a man in the blink of an eye. He was crouching, naked, in the middle of her living room floor. Michonne scrambled over the back of the couch. She hadn't moved that fast since she'd run track in college. She grabbed the nearest weapon she could get her hands on - a skinny but solid wooden figure she'd purchased during a trip to Ghana. She brandished the statue like a bat.

"How did you…" Her words trailed off as he rose into an upright position. Standing before her, without a stitch of clothing on, was the most ethereally beautiful man she'd ever seen. He looked to be of average height, his lean build accentuated by sculpted pecs and biceps. Dark brown curls sprinkled with gray haloed a bare face as smooth as his hairless chest.

He tilted his head to the side, calmly staring back at her, his blue eyes the only remnant of the stray cat she'd been cuddling with less than a minute ago. "You summoned me, master." If she'd ever had to imagine what a magical cat-man sounded like, it wouldn't have been with a panty-wetting Southern accent.

"Who are you?" Her gaze drifted to his abs and the dangling appendage between his legs. Her eyes shot to the ceiling, but not before a tingling sensation began to build in her most private area.

"I'm whoever you want me to be, master."

Michonne closed her eyes, shaking her head in an attempt to dislodge this wine-fueled hallucination from her mind. She opened her eyes to find him standing right in front of her, those blue eyes peering into the depths of her. She jumped back, tripping on her legs. He caught her by the arm with one hand, saving her from tumbling backward. His hold was firm, yet gentle. She caught her breath at the surge that traveled through her body where he touched her. It had the most calming effect on her, a soothing numbness.

"There's no reason to fear me."

"But you're not human." Tension melted from her muscles as those clear blue eyes drew her in. She pushed him away, immediately feeling the loss of his touch. "Stop doing...whatever it is you're doing."

He immediately released her, his arms dropping to his sides like some robot that'd been switched to _Off_. He stood there, as though awaiting her next command.

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Rick, if you like."

Rick? She'd expected something more exotic, like Jean Luc or Maximilian. "_What_ are you, Rick?"

He crossed his arms, drawing her attention to his sculpted chest; which then reminded her that he was stark naked. She grabbed the throw from the couch and tossed it to him. "Please, cover yourself already."

He tied the blanket around his slim waist. "I could go back to my cat form if you prefer, master."

"Why the hell do you keep calling me master?"

He looked confused by her question. "You summoned me and I had no choice but to respond. I'm only here to serve you."

A current of excitement surged through her at his words. This strong, gorgeous man at her beck and call? Yeah, right. "This is ridiculous." She looked him up and down. "So you're like some cat genie?"

He scoffed. "I'm a human, who can take the form of a cat."

"Like some sort of shapeshifter?" She couldn't believe those words had just come out of her mouth.

"More like being forced to take a form that isn't mine."

"Like a curse?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "You're the only person to summon me in almost a hundred years."

The man before her appeared to be in his early 40s and not much older than her. "And how exactly did I do that?"

"Through your need, your tears. And then your wish."

She wracked her brain, trying to remember exactly when she might have made that wish. "My wanting to start over? But those were just words."

"Words hold great power."

She'd been a lawyer for years, she knew exactly the difference words could make in the course of a person's life. "So you're some kind of genie, then? Here to grant me three wishes?" She laughed at the ridiculousness of the proposition.

"Not three. Just one."

After watching him transform from a cat into a man right before her eyes, she had very little reason to doubt that what he said was true. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you sum-"

"Summoned you. Right, right. I got it." She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the fact that she was beginning to believe this wasn't just a dream or a hallucination. "I need a drink." She moved for the kitchen, but he stopped her with a light touch to her arm.

"Let me," he said, his eyes sparkling with life. "Another glass of wine?"

She squinted at him. "Sure."

"Have a seat. Put your feet up. Relax."

She admired the smooth lines of his muscled back and the curve of his ass underneath the blanket as he moved into the kitchen. She had the vaguest feeling that, even though he referred to her as "master," she wasn't the one in control here.

For once in her harried, overachieving life Michonne decided to just go with the flow. She returned to the couch, listening to the pop of the cork and the pouring of liquid as Rick prepared a glass of wine for her. She sighed. She could get used to this.

Rick returned, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. He handed her a glass of rosé as pink as his full bottom lip. "For you, master." He settled in on the opposite of the couch, pulling her feet into his lap. She took a sip of wine, watching as he began to massage her feet with his strong hands, like it was the most natural thing in the world. As he skillfully squeezed and prodded at her sensitive feet, she relaxed, letting the slow buzz from the wine ease her into relaxation. She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it was part magic.

"Now, about this whole 'master' thing. Just call me Michonne."

"Michonne?" Her name sounded sensual on the roll of his tongue. He shook his head. "No. It's not right to call you by your first name. 'My queen' would be more appropriate."

She laughed, the release of tension making her even more amenable to his touch. She actually didn't hate it, but it was still too weird for her taste. "Not quite my style."

He sat, thinking. "My lady?" He pressed his thumb into the arch of her foot, the lustrous sensation shooting straight from her foot to the bundle of nerves between her thighs. She appreciated a persuasive man.

"My lady." Not bad. "That works, but please use it sparingly. I'm not a member of the nobility." She leaned back into the arm of the couch and shut her eyes. If everything was coming to an end tomorrow anyway, why not just enjoy this odd calm before the storm?

They sat quietly, Rick continuing to work his magic with her feet. A few sighs escaped her lips as he moved up to her ankles and then her calf muscles.

"About your wish, my lady," Rick said in a soothing tone.

"Hmm," she said absently, taking another gulp of her wine, the tang on her tongue somehow enhancing the sweetness of his words.

"You want to start over. How?"

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her intently. His eyes were warm and inviting, as though he really wanted to know what she desired most. Michonne had nothing to lose in being honest. "Well, if I could go back to the beginning, I would do quite a few things differently; like accepting my teacher's offer to be an investor."

"Teacher?"

"Yes. He taught me everything I know about dog grooming."

His hands paused mid-squeeze. "He?"

She smirked. "Yes, he." She tilted her head to the side. "You can't seriously be jealous."

"Why wouldn't I be? You're my lady."

Her channel clenched at the possessiveness in his tone. "Technically, you're the one who belongs to me."

He squinted in slight defiance before returning his attention to her feet, his deft fingers rubbing the sensitive spots between her toes. Her pussy hummed in delight.

"I can grant your wish, but there's a cost."

"A catch to having my deepest desire realized? Who would've seen that one coming?" she asked sardonically. "Let me guess, you want my firstborn child."

This time his stare was laced with desire and…hope. "A child? With me?"

Her pulse raced at the thought of this beautiful man impregnating her - of how, when and with what techniques. She'd always wanted a child, but had never found the right guy, or the right time. Whether he was magical or not, he'd managed to bring her walls tumbling down in no time at all.

She quickly laughed away the thought. "It was just a joke, Rick."

Genuine disappointment lined his beautiful features. The sudden guilt she felt surprised her. Had he been serious? Of course not; no, completely out of the question.

"So, what is the actual cost then?" she asked, breaking his intense stare and the heavy silence between them. "And what do you get in return?"

"Your pleasure." Michonne licked her lips unconsciously. Well, when he put it that way… "Ok?"

"You agree?"

"To what exactly?"

"Me receiving your pleasure in exchange for granting your wish."

Her delirious heart leaped into her throat. How exactly was this a cost? The benefit would be twofold for her. She shrugged to calm herself. "Why not? It's not like I haven't had one-night stands before." At this point, she could use the comfort of another's touch.

"This wouldn't be casual," he said, a warning embedded in his statement. Was she missing something?

"I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Sounds like a good deal to me."

"Then, your wish is my command, my lady." Her clit throbbed at the tone of his voice, which had gone abysmally deep. "Tell me how to please you."

Michonne stifled a moan, her desire building at his words. No man had ever treated her pleasure as anything more than an afterthought. Maybe that's why she'd only been able to orgasm on her own and never with a partner.

Rick might be just the man - or being - that she'd been searching for. "What's the catch?" The glint of mischief in his eyes set her cheeks ablaze. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

"In order for me to grant your wish, you have to orgasm. Three times."

"In a row?" Her clit went cold, her heart now thumping with anxiety.

"Well, not successively necessarily. But before the sun rises."

Her body ached with lust and fear. Was that even possible?

He must've read the doubt on her face. "I'll take care of everything. If you can trust me."

"I just met you. And you're not exactly human."

"Not completely true, but I understand your misgivings. All I need from you is honesty about what you want. I'll handle the rest."

His words both brought her comfort and sent her pussy back into a frenzy. He seemed sincere. But could she bare her soul to someone she'd just met? The uncertainty only enhanced her excitement. "I don't know…" If this could change the course of her business, she owed it to herself to at least try.

"There's no need for pretense with me. I'm here for you - without judgment."

She blurted out the word. "Blindfold." Where had that come from?

His expression remained unreadable. "Yes?"

"I've always wanted to be blindfolded during sex."

"Is there anything else you desire, my lady?" he gently prodded.

"Just the blindfold." She wasn't quite sure in what way, but his expression told her that he understood something she wasn't saying.

"Done." He stood and she couldn't help but notice the slight bulge in his crotch area. She resisted loosening the throw he had tied around his waist. He offered his hand to her. "We only have a few hours until sunrise."

She took his hand, trembling in anticipation. He lifted her from the couch with ease. They stood facing each other, only a few inches of distance between them.

"May I kiss you, my lady?" he whispered.

"Yes." She was ready for this, for him.

He cradled her face in his hands, his pupils dilated beyond what seemed normal for a human. In the depths of his gaze, she found the blue flame of his desire. "Not tasting these lips should be punishable by death." He leaned in slowly, anticipation bubbling in her core. But instead of kissing her on the mouth, he titled his head slightly, pressing his lips against her cheek. "I plan to savor all of you before I partake in that particular treat." His tongue darted out, the wetness against her cheek matching the dampness in her panties. A tiny kiss on the cheek sent her spiraling into oblivion.

"Mmm, you're as sweet as peach cobbler." He moved lower, planting kisses along her neck. He stopped at the crook of her neck, his lick long and lazy before he clamped those luscious lips to her neck, sucking with enthusiasm.

Michonne cried out at the jolt to her pussy. "Mmm, yes." She was already on the verge of orgasm number one.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her to his chest as he sucked on her neck like it was a king crab leg. Her nipples pebbled when his hands dropped to her ass, kneading her cheeks. He lifted his head, seeking something in her eyes and smiled at the recognition. "That's it, my lady. Give in to me."

Her breath caught at his words as she realized she was in way over her head. If he could bring her so close to orgasm without having even kissed her yet, she was lost. "Rick-"

He consumed her words with a kiss. Along with the fullness of his bottom lip and a fragrance like sweet milk on his breath, she savored the authority in his kiss, her insecurities melting away. This man wanted to consume her and she yielded to his command. He was everything she didn't know she wanted.

He squeezed her ass like he was making fresh orange juice. She gyrated her hips, longing for release. His kiss made her forget all of her problems; made her forget her middle name.

"Rick, yes." She was surprised by how much his massaging turned her on. Former lovers held a certain admiration - reverence even - for her ass, but none had devoted much time to it. Rick was getting to know her ass up close and personal, learning its likes and dislikes.

He pressed up against her, his hard cock slipping into the juncture between of her thighs. "I'm so hard. Your ass alone is going to do me in." He began to gently thrust his hips, the tip of his cock tapping against her clit. He continued to explore every inch of her mouth with his tongue. She drank him in, her body begging for more.

"Oh...my…" Michonne's chest tightened as her first orgasm beat her to the finish line. She threw her head back in ecstasy, Rick's lips returning to that sensitive spot on her neck, sucking and licking as she came. Her knees buckled but he was there to catch her. He swept her into his arms, heading for the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head against his bare chest.

"Rick, I don't think I can handle another one of those." This had been the first time she'd had an orgasm in the presence of another person. She was both embarrassed and elated, excited yet fearful of what would come next.

He kissed her forehead. "We're just getting started, my lady."

######

Michonne lay naked in bed, a red ribbon tied around her head, shielding her eyes. It was the same ribbon she'd given to the cat that was Rick, before she knew what he truly was.

"How shall we proceed?" he asked, his voice coming from right beside her.

The thrill of being blindfolded, knowing Rick could see every inch of her naked body, while she couldn't see him at all, only made her greedy for more.

"I want to undress you." Unable to see Rick with her eyes, she would be forced to explore his body with her sense of touch.

He lifted her hand, placing it on the throw tied around her waist. "Whenever you're ready."

Michonne licked her lips as she untied the cloth. She heard it drop to the floor. She traced the hard lines of his abs with trembling fingers. Moving higher, she ran her palm across his bare chest.

He grunted. "Touch me." The fact that she turned him on set her faucet on full blast. Her hand drifted lower, coming into contact with the patch of hair beneath his abs, before she wrapped her hand around his hard cock.

"Mmm," he breathed.

She ran her hand up and down his thick shaft. "I want your finger in my pussy," she said, the authority she'd initially sensed in Rick taking a hold of her. She liked being both vulnerable and the one in control. The dynamic turned her on more than she could've imagined.

Rick's hands were on her thighs, spreading them apart. "Like this?" His fingers slid between her lips, running up and down her folds.

"Yes, just like that." She squeezed his dick even tighter as he rubbed a finger up and down her slit.

"Do you like this?" He applied a bit more pressure to her bud, rubbing his finger in a circular motion.

"Uh huh," was all she could manage, as she spread her legs wider. He took the hint, dipping a finger into her channel.

She arched her back. She must have held his cock in a death grip because he said, "Easy now."

She eased up on her hold. "Sorry," she panted. "That just felt so good."

"Can I taste you?"

She'd never enjoyed receiving oral sex, mainly because the men she'd been with had no clue what to do with their tongues. But she suspected Rick would exceed her expectations.

She nodded. "Eat my pussy like it's your last meal."

Rick chuckled. "What my lady wants, my lady gets."

He climbed onto the bed to join her. He spread her legs wider, one hand on each thigh. She felt his warm breath against her as he spoke. "You have the most beautiful pussy."

It was her turn to chuckle. "Not too beautiful to eat, I hope."

He swiped his wet tongue along her folds and her ass came up off the bed. "That should erase any doubt," he said.

"Ahh," she cried out. Her pussy dripped in anticipation of the next caress of his tongue.

Rick apparently wasn't one for suspense. He gently bit the inside of her thigh before flicking his tongue against her clit. He slipped two fingers into her slick channel, pumping them in and out in a slowly seductive manner. He curled his fingers slightly, coming into contact with a sensitive bunch of nerves.

"I'm close," she said with a trace of disappointment. She'd wanted to last longer than this, but orgasm number two was just around the bend.

"Come harder than you've ever come before."

"I don't know if I can."

"You're a queen, of course you can."

His lips clamped down on her tiny bud and he sucked with the same fervor he'd applied to her neck. Her orgasm built with a slow burn, drawing out until the last moment before her release.

Michonne whimpered as she came. "Yes, yes, yes." It was different from the first one, but just as powerful. Maybe even more so. Rick lapped at her pussy, the sounds making her hotter.

Michonne ripped off the blindfold and looked down at Rick between her legs. "I need to fuck you. Now."

His blue eyes twinkled with desire. "As you wish, my lady." He kissed her inner thigh before switching places with her.

She knelt between his legs, his thick dick as straight as an arrow. As much as she wanted to take him into her mouth, she wanted to ride that dick even more. Michonne wasted no time in mounting Rick, slamming her pussy down on his cock. The small flash of pain as he stretched her to capacity disappeared in the face of a blinding pleasure.

Rick's hands shot to her hips as she began to grind against him. "Fuck yes." His eyes were trained on her pussy, as she slid up and down his cock.

He fondled her breasts, tweaking her nipples. "You are so damn sexy," he growled, thrusting up to meet her as she slammed down on his cock.

"Fuck me!" she shouted like a woman without a care in the world.

Rick flipped her onto her back, heeding her command. His hips pistoned against her, his dick filling her clenching channel. "Come with me, sweetheart." He'd finally dropped the formalities.

And she dropped her walls with him. "Ok, baby." The ferocity with which he fucked her was going to make it hard to hold on for much longer. She felt the familiar sensation building for a third time. "Are you close?"

"I'll come when you do. Just tell me when. I belong to you now."

That did it for her. "Rumpelstitlskin!" she cried as her orgasm surged forth, brimming with the last of her energy.

"Michonne!" Rick cried out, exploding inside of her. She could feel the essence of his release mixing with her own juices.

Her breaths came deep and hard. He continued to slowly pump into her, emitting the last of his release with a moan that vibrated deep in his belly.

Recovering from the whirlwind that was the most explosive orgasm she'd ever experienced, she recalled the moment of her release. _Rumpelstitlskin_. Had she been speaking in tongues?

"Thank you, my love." Rick repositioned them so that he could take her into his arms, her head resting on his chest, his cock still inside of her. He ran his hand up and down her back, the light scratching sensation lulling her into sleep.

"For what?"

"For speaking my true name."

She lifted her head and met his loving gaze, his slightly dilated pupils making his blue eyes appear darker. "Rumpelstitltskin?" As she spoke his name, she felt him harden within her and her pussy walls clenched automatically in response.

"Yes," he whispered, as though the name were the most seductive thing he'd ever heard.

"What does it mean?"

"It's German for 'little rattle stilt.'"

"Your 'stilt' certainly isn't little." She stirred against him, hoping to bring said appendage back to full mast.

He laughed. "I'm glad you think so."

"So what does it mean, me saying your name? And why did it just come to me like that? I've never even heard it before."

"I'm not exactly sure. I felt an immediate connection to you from the beginning, so maybe that had something to do with it. Either way, you've freed me from the curse. I'm fully human and my own man again."

"So you can stay here, with me?" Having Rick with her softened the blow of the other failures in her life.

"Yes. If you'll have me."

She kissed him in response. "You chose me first. I'm just returning the favor."

"And I can help you get your business started in any way you need me."

"Started?" In the course of having three orgasms in one night, she'd totally forgotten about her wish.

"Yes. We're back at the beginning. Check your phone."

Michonne reached out for the smartphone on her nightstand. She pressed the power button, the screen displaying the current date and time. The date displayed was two months before the day she originally opened her business.

"No way." If she really was getting a second chance, she knew deep down in her gut that she would succeed this time. "You did this, for me?"

"I only did what you did for me. You've given me my life back, Michonne."

"My lady," she corrected in jest.

He thrust his already hard cock deeper inside of her. "My lady," he smiled, rolling on top of her. "Let's see if we can make it four orgasms before sunrise."

Michonne moaned in unrestrained delight. "Your wish is my command."


End file.
